


It's good for your serotonin levels

by Angstosaur



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:33:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21933781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angstosaur/pseuds/Angstosaur
Summary: Originally written for a Reel_Torchwood challenge. Tidying it up as a sweet treat for the time of year.After losing his memory following a car accident that killed his wife, Ianto Jones arrives in North Wales with the intention of setting up a chocolate shop in a remote village. Despite an underlying sadness and sensation of loss, accompanied by recurring black-outs (that he puts down to the injuries he sustained in the tragic car accident)  he perseveres for the sake of his young daughter. Then, one day, a handsome stranger turns up and nothing is ever the same again.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Comments: 31
Kudos: 114





	1. Chapter 1

**Setting** : North Wales – a fictional village in a valley close to a canal (In truth the Llangollen canal does not get as far as Snowdonia, but suspend disbelief and imagine the area – rugged, unforgiving terrain of the mountains of North Wales, through which a canal lies alongside the river). The canal has been recently restored, much to the dismay of the villagers who’d been happily isolated, living by old fashioned standards. The pub stays shut on a Sunday and the locals still speak Welsh, on occasion, especially if they hear an English or American accent.

**Chapter One**

_There was a quiet little village in the Welsh countryside whose people believed in tradition. If you lived in this village you understood what was expected of you. You knew your place in the scheme of things. And if you happened to forget, someone would help remind you. In this village if you saw something you weren't supposed to see, you learned to look the other way. The villagers held fast to their traditions._

_Until one winter day a sly wind blew in from the north._

_Where will we find truth?_

_Where do we start looking?_

_Where will we find truth?_

_We will find it..._

He lifted the horseshoe shaped door knocker and rapped it sharply. There was a chilly north wind blowing, cutting through his coat; not even the woollen scarf could keep the blasts of icy air from raising the hairs on the back of his neck. The door creaked open and he found himself being appraised by a beady pair of eyes, the irises milky blue with age, yet apparently still capable of piercing his soul. It had been a while since anyone had looked at him directly and not averted their eyes soon after.

“Who the hell are you?” demanded a voice that matched the eyes.

“We’re here about the bakery – I’d like to rent it and the flat above it.”

“Where are you from?”

“Well, we lived in Conwy for a while, before that Denbigh and before that…”

“Ruthin – Myfanwy hated it there,” piped up the small child that was holding on tightly to his coat.

The beady eyed gaze shifted, as if only just noticing the little girl, before sweeping from side to side as if to check if there was anyone else on her doorstep.

“Myfanwy?”

“Myfanwy is her pterodactyl –”

“Pteranodon, daddy,” chided the girl.

He was glad to see that the elderly woman caught his eye and consequently stifled her look of disbelief and replaced it with a more serious expression.

“But she can’t fly.” The child added as if it was important to make that perfectly clear.

“Bad wings, huh?” the woman asked.

Anouska nodded her head in response.

The door closed again and Ianto sighed wearily. Yet another rejection. He’d come to expect it in the villages. Then he heard the chain rattle as it was taken from its catch and the door opened fully to reveal the owner of the sharp-eyed gaze – a woman of indeterminate age, dressed in bright coloured layers of skirts, blouses, waistcoats and a long cardigan. She held out a metal ring from which dangled a set of antique looking keys.

“I expect you to keep it in good condition. I’ll be around tomorrow with a contract you can sign. If you change your mind put the keys back through the letterbox – you won’t be the first and I don’t s’pose you’ll be the last. Go on with you – get that poor mite out of the cold. There’s some wood in the shed at the back – the chimney’s clean. Light a fire.”

Before Ianto could even thank their new landlady, the door had shut once more.

****************

As they entered the shop Ianto peeled the faded sign advertising the place for rent from the window. The yellowed sellotape came away with no resistance – Ianto hoped that was an omen. He was fed up with moving from town to town looking for somewhere to settle. Perhaps this would provide them both with the home they needed.

The flat was sparsely furnished, but there was a sofa and an armchair in the living room, both covered with dustsheets. There were two bedrooms, and Anouska rushed to take the smaller of the two – pointing at the prettily decorated fireplace.

“Daddy – Myfanwy wants to know how long we can stay.”

“Oh?”

Ianto glanced in the direction his daughter’s eyes were fixed. He had hoped she’d have grown out of the need for an imaginary friend, but the life they led, moving from place to place, meant that she had so little stability that she hung onto her invisible friend for comfort.

“Tell her not to worry about that tonight.”

Ianto opened one of the large cases he was carrying with him and pulled out a sheet and a soft blue blanket. He quickly made the bed in the small bedroom and sat the child on the bed to pull off her shoes.

“Time for bed, sweetheart. It’s been a long day.”

Lifting the smaller bag onto the bed, Ianto pulled out a set of red, plaid, flannel pyjamas and laid them out on top of the blanket.

“What story tonight, then?”

As the girl crawled into the bed she patted the space next to her and leaned over as if listening intently to a voice that only she could hear.

“Myfanwy wants to hear a story about mummy.”

“Not tonight, Anouska.” Ianto slowly shook his head, albeit with a fond smile on his face.

“You always say that,” Anouska pouted. “Please tell me about mummy.”

“Not tonight. How about the one about the triceratops and the pirates?”

“OK, as long as Myfanwy's in it as well.”

Ianto sighed once more. He was glad he'd won that argument easily, he wasn’t in the mood to make up stories about Anouska’s mother and the mere process of thinking about her always triggered dreadful headaches that made him nauseous. If only he could remember more about her.

As Anouska curled up and slipped into the world of sleep, Ianto picked up the carved soapstone box that held Lisa’s ashes. She’d always be with them. 

****************

The following morning, Ianto took Anouska with him to explore the village. He bought supplies from the local Co-op: basic food stuffs that didn’t need refrigerating and cleaning goods by the bagful. His first task was going to be scrubbing the place from top to bottom; it had been empty for at least a year if the cobwebs were anything to go by.

When he returned he cleaned out the fireplace first and lit a small fire using some old newspaper and pieces of wood he’d found in one of the outbuildings. However, he didn’t want to leave Anouska unsupervised near the open fire, so he made her bundle up in two jumpers and her coat, with scarf and mittens. She decided to sit on the stairs with one of her beloved books, dog-eared and on the verge of falling apart, but still her favourite. Ianto stole a glance at her as he set about cleaning the ground floor. He had the front door of the shop wedged open to let some fresh air ventilate the interior of the building, hoping to dispel the smell of damp and mould.

So engrossed was Ianto in swabbing down the faded lino he didn’t hear the soft footsteps of the stranger that walked through the door.

It was Anouska who saw him first.

“Hello,” she said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Mr Reynolds and who may I ask are you?”

“My name is Anouska and-”

“Jones, Ianto Jones,” Ianto introduced himself he set down the scrubbing brush and got to his feet. He rubbed his hands on his jeans and shook hands with the stout man who was busy looking around him.

“John Reynolds– chairman of the local parish council. Saw the door open and thought I’d take the opportunity to welcome you to our community.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m sure.”

The man reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out a card – it looked like a business card.

“Here are the times of the services at the chapel – I look forward to seeing you there tomorrow.”

“That’s very kind of you, but actually we don’t attend.”

The smile fell from Reynolds’ face, but he still held the card out in front of him.

“Well, maybe Mrs. Jones would like to-”

“There isn’t a Mrs. Jones. Never has been, apart from my mother of course,” stated Ianto firmly. He was growing accustomed to the assumptions made that he must have a wife.

“Oh, you’re not married then.” Reynolds looked as if he was sucking a lemon. “I see. I don’t suppose Anouska’s mother-”

“It’s just me and daddy,” Anouska said, grabbing hold of her father’s hand.

She knew that other people made him sad when they asked those sorts of questions. In her own way she was very protective of her father and from an early age she’d learnt that although their relationship wasn’t like that of other parents and children, she had her daddy to herself completely, she didn’t have to share him with anyone.

“Like I said, we won’t be attending, but it’s a lovely building and we’re looking forward to hearing the bells. Anouska likes to dance to the sound of church bells, don’t you sweetheart?”

Anouska smiled coyly and nodded.

“The bells aren’t meant to be entertainment,” retorted Reynolds stiffly. “They are to call the faithful to worship.”

Ianto caught sight of his daughter rolling her eyes and he wondered if she did that because she’d seen him doing it or if it was genetic.

“Ah well, it was good of you to stop by, maybe we’ll see you again when I open up for business next week.”

“Ah yes – and just what is the nature of your business?”

“Ah – that’s going to be a surprise.” Ianto tapped the side of his nose. He had no intention of broadcasting his intentions to the whole village through Mr Reynolds of the parish council.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit like the movie Chocolat, with some very important differences to come...

**Chapter Two**

It took longer than he’d hoped before Ianto had everything he needed. As usual he contacted the haulage company he’d always dealt with in the past to collect his belongings from storage and deliver them to his new residence. They never asked any questions about the frequency with which he moved from place to place, they just transferred his belongings from storage to temporary home and back into storage.

Harwood’s was a small family run business based in Cardiff and he’d always felt that he could trust them. They not only fetched and carried his meagre personal belongings and the tools of his trade, they were also more than happy to collect the raw ingredients he ordered from a specialist supplier.

“There you go, Mr. Jones. I hope everything’s in order. Any problems and give Mandy at head office a call. Nice village, this, wish I could persuade my Gwen to get a transfer up here.”

“I thought you were happy enough in Cardiff, Rhys.” Ianto frowned. It was as if he already knew the burly driver from some other context other than just hauling his gear around the country.

“It’s alright, but … I dunno. You’re a South Wales boy yourself aren’t you? Don’t you miss the city life?”

“No. Not really. Although…” Ianto shook his head as he tried to remember what it was about South Wales that he might have been missing. That’s when he spotted a few more boxes being unloaded from the back of the truck. “What are those? They can’t be mine. I’ve already checked the inventory.”

“Oh yes, forgot to say - Mr Smith says we’re to leave those with you as well. Something about loyalty reward.”

Ianto frowned as he watched the extra boxes of raw ingredients being stacked on top of the ones already waiting in the front of the shop. He didn’t remember, but apparently he’d once done the mysterious Mr Smith some huge favour and as a result he was always provided with the most up-to-date equipment at the lowest of prices – ridiculous reductions that he never understood. It wasn’t as if he was short of cash, he still had a reasonable sum of money in his savings account, compensation for the accident that had left him with amnesia and Anouska’s mother dead.

****************

Soon enough he had the bakery converted into a chocolate shop with the kitchen transformed into an area for the preparation of the confectionary. In the front there was a glass fronted case and a counter with an old-fashioned till.

The large window allowed a good-sized display area and, with Hallowe’en only ten days away, Ianto had filled it with translucent tissue paper ghosts and bright orange pumpkins with wide carved grins. Black crepe paper crumpled into folds nestled around dishes brimming with hand made chocolates and sweets. There were marzipan pumpkins, white chocolate ghosts with chocolate spots for eyes, sinister looking cats cast from dark chocolate, peppermint twigs tied together with strips of orange ribbon to look like broomsticks and witches’ hats, tiny cones of chocolate with the tops tipped over. Truth be told, Ianto didn’t need the income, but it gave him something to do that kept Lisa’s memory alive and gave Anouska a great deal of pleasure.

Next to the counter he had a bar set up with stools alongside it, and a small table with an assortment of wooden chairs that he’d picked up from the second-hand furniture shop on the outskirts of the village. It was really just a barn filled with the sad remains of house clearances, but Ianto preferred to select eclectic items that had a history behind them rather than brand new pieces of soul-less furniture. He was planning to set up a hot plate to make real hot chocolate for his customers to drink while they perused the shelves of goodies.

Before he’d officially opened his shop, Reynolds paid him another unwelcome visit. The man had seemed incensed by what he referred to as a godless display of superstitious nonsense. He said the villagers had no interest in wasting money on frivolous fancy goods and that the shop was bound to fail. Ianto had just smiled and cheekily suggested that Reynolds should wait and see.

Ianto knew only too well the lure of chocolate. By making chocolates he was worshipping that one snippet of memory, warm and whole, guarded closely in his heart. Lisa. Lying wrapped in one another’s arms one night she’d told him the tale of how her grandmother had seduced her grandfather with chocolate. That morning she’d made hot chocolate just the way her mother had shown her and served it in a round earthenware bowl. They’d shared it between them and then exchanged kisses, as layered in flavour and depth as the spicy, rich beverage they’d drunk. This was what he did in her memory, there was nothing else left.

****************

It didn’t take long for the villagers to become captivated by the tastes Ianto recreated in the depths of Snowdonia, as far away as possible ideologically and geographically from the origin of the drink he served. When he first opened the store, he’d given away a free chocolate to every person who came inside. He prided himself on taking one look at a person and knowing exactly what their favourite would be.

It didn’t take long for Ianto and Anouska to get to know the key players in the village. There was their landlady, Arwydd, her daughter, Carys and grandson, Lewellyn, with whom Anouska had tried to make friends. Arwydd gave the appearance of fierceness but she had a warm side, one she shared with Ianto and Anouska as she got to know them better. There was also an elderly man who walked his old black and white Cardigan corgi past the shop most mornings and an attractive widow, rumoured to have been a dancer in her youth; Ianto noted the attraction between them and wondered when, if ever, they’d act on their feelings.

Ianto had also had the misfortune to meet the pub landlord and his put upon wife when he’d dropped into the pub asking if he could put up a poster announcing the opening of his shop. The man made no attempt to hide his disdain for Ianto, asking him what sort of man sold chocolates for a living; however, once he’d disappeared to change the barrels, his wife quietly took the poster from Ianto and stuck it up on the board near the bar.

It appeared as if everyone he met deferred to the boorish parish councillor, Reynolds. The fact that he owned a large portion of the land around the village and was the main employer appeared to give him the sort of power that the squire of the manor used to hold. He was used to getting his way and from what Ianto heard, his rivals never fared well if they went up against him. However, Ianto noted with interest that there was a crack in the shield that the man hid behind. Reynolds was masking the fact that his marriage was in tatters. He let people believe his wife was staying with relatives in England, but Arwydd had told Ianto the truth. Her daughter, Carys, was Reynolds’ personal assistant and she dealt with all of his mail, but despite knowing the truth, Carys seemed strangely protective of the overbearing employer. Ianto suspected that nothing was quite as it seemed in the sleepy village.

Then there was the young clergyman from the church. A serious young man, younger than Ianto, and very earnest. He refused to look Ianto in the eye when their paths crossed, which was often, seeing as the church was across a small square from Ianto’s new home. Ianto wondered if he had a sweet tooth.

****************

As the weeks passed by, Anouska spent more time with young Lew, as the boy preferred to be called. She took pride in showing him her books on dinosaurs whilst he’d bring over a toy car or train. Between them they created hybrid worlds where dinosaurs walked the Earth and interacted with a variety of mechanical devices.

It was one morning, when Ianto heard loud excited shouts from Anouska’s room, that he experienced his first black-out since arriving in the village. The two children were playing a game that involved a soft toy pterodactyl swooping down to attack a shiny robot. When Ianto came to, he was on his side, in a rough approximation of the recovery position, with someone gently petting his hair and asking him if he needed the doctor. He laughed, almost hysterically. No doctors, no ... he’d had enough of being prodded and poked by medics to last him a lifetime.

Opening his eyes slowly, he could see that it was Lew’s mother, Carys, fussing over him.

“Mr Jones? Mr Jones? Are you alright?”

As the room lurched back into focus he could feel a small hand gripping his fingers tight.

“You have to move away now, Anouska, your father is not well and needs air.”

“I mustn’t let go! It’s important, I mustn’t let go!” Anouska’s petulant voice was almost breaking as she struggled to get the grown up to understand that she couldn’t leave her father’s side.

“Stop being silly-”

“Leave her be. She’s not being silly.” Ianto reached out and stilled the woman’s hand, preventing her from pulling Anouska away from his side.

“Daddy? Are you OK now? Do you need your medicine?”

“No, sweetheart – I’ll be fine. Just a dizzy spell – I’ll be just fine.”

“Don’t be preposterous, Mr Jones. You must see a doctor-”

“No doctors, thank you,” interrupted Ianto curtly. “But if you could be so kind as to put the kettle on, I think I could do with a cup of –”

“Hot, sweet tea? Yes, that’s an excellent idea.”

Before he had time to sit up, Carys had left the small bedroom and was on her way to the kitchen. Ianto wondered how she knew her way around and then remembered that her mother owned the flat and the shop he now called home.

“Anouska, darling, why don’t you and Lew take your game and play outside in the back yard?” suggested Ianto as he brushed the dust from his trousers and pushed himself up from the floor, grasping the bed frame as he did so.

“But –”

“It’s OK. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Ianto leaned in the doorway of the living room until the two children had disappeared down the stairs. Only then did he allow himself to slump down onto the threadbare sofa. Shortly after, Carys appeared with a small tray bearing a milk jug, bag of sugar and two cups and saucers. 

“I couldn’t find a sugar bowl.”

“Contrary to common belief, chocolate lovers don’t all have a sweet tooth.”

Carys placed the tray on the carved wooden coffee table and poured two cups of tea, handing one to Ianto, before sitting in the armchair with her own.

“Does she mind it?” Carys asked out of the blue, tilting an ear in the direction of the sounds from the garden below.

“Mind what?” asked Ianto defensively.

“The way you move her from place to place.”

“Oh? She’s doing fine, thank you. It’s good for her. Seeing new places, meeting new people.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

“Don’t you ever want to settle down?”

“I’ve tried.” A wistful look drifted across Ianto’s face and he found himself admitting a belief he usually kept to himself. “But it seems as if there’s someone I’m waiting for and I’ve yet to find them.”

“The right woman?”

“Maybe.”

Ianto smiled but avoided meeting the inquisitive eyes of Carys. He didn’t want to scandalise her by saying he wasn’t necessarily looking for a woman. Over the past few years he’d found himself drawn to men of a certain appearance, only to be disappointed to find they weren’t ‘quite’ what he was seeking. Although he knew that Carys wasn’t coming on to him, he didn’t want to open his heart to her any further than he had already. However, the conversation inevitably reminded him of those moments when he was most at peace, when he could close his eyes and there, lingering just beyond the reach of his mind’s eye, he could sense a presence, something that was missing from his life. For the longest time he’d believed it was Lisa, but the fact that this feeling got stronger with time suggested otherwise. After all, Lisa was gone. 

“I don’t understand you, Mr Jones-”

“Ianto, please call me Ianto.”

“It’s just that since I lost Lew’s father, I can’t bear to let him out of my sight, yet you allow your daughter to just run wild-”

“Not wild – just free.”

“Is there a difference?”

“I like to think so,” Ianto said softly, not wanting to enter an argument. “What exactly are you afraid of?”

“Losing him as well I suppose. Don’t you - ?”

“I know that if I hold onto her too tightly I’ll lose her even sooner.”

“Can I ask what happened to her mother?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ianto looked away quickly. He knew that Carys was just being inquisitive and hadn’t meant to intrude, but Lisa was an out-of-bounds topic for conversation. “Thank you for making tea – it was very kind of you.”

“Not at all.” Carys took the hint and glanced down at her watch. “It’s time I was going home anyway. I’ll fetch Lew on my way out.”

“He’s always welcome.”

“Yes, well … thank you …”

As Carys clattered down the bare wooden stairs, Ianto smiled ruefully to himself. She didn’t approve of him. That wasn’t anything new, not really.

***************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra chapter to help give a few clues.  
> Will post daily over the holiday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

“Here, try one of these.” Ianto held out a truffle, dusted in cocoa powder.

“I’ll not take it off the rent you know.”

“I’d never expect you to – now go on, try it.” Ianto rolled his eyes as his landlady leaned forward and bit deeply into the dark chocolate. It was just the right texture to melt in the mouth releasing more than a hint of rum.

“Is there booze in them?” asked Arwydd as she raised the chocolate to her lips.

“Only a little,” muttered Ianto, until he saw her raised eyebrows. “Maybe more than a little?”

“Good.” Arwydd smiled before popping the truffle into her mouth, sighing involuntarily as the rich confection melted on her tongue.

“Well?” asked Ianto, waiting for her to swallow.

“Perhaps you could give some to my daughter. Melt that chilly disposition of hers.”

“You and Carys have a problem?”

“You could say that. She won’t let me see my grandson unless she’s with him. Says I’m a bad influence.”

“Really?”

“I can’t stand the way she treats him like a trained sheepdog, coming to heel when called. I swear he doesn’t even have a piss without her permission.”

Ianto almost snorted with laughter. He’d maybe overdone the alcohol content of the truffles, again.

“Ever since her husband died, she hardly lets the boy out of her sight. I’m surprised she lets him come here to play at all.”

“She probably thinks he can’t come to much harm playing with a seven-year-old girl in the back yard of a chocolate shop.”

“Yes, well I suppose she thinks that’s safer than letting him have a bicycle to ride.”

“Do you want to see him on your own?”

“Of course I do.”

“Leave it to me, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Think you can work magic do you, lad? Ah well, maybe you can. I’ll take a small bag of those truffles to take with me. And I’m paying for them – not having rumours flying about a special relationship, not at my age.”

“I’d never do anything to spoil your reputation.” Ianto winked as he placed a bag of the rum truffles on the counter. He’d known she’d like them best.

“What’s this?” Arwydd asked as she got up out of the chair to find a dark green scarf on the floor next to her bag. “It looks like Josephine’s. How on earth did she manage to get away from that monster long enough to come in here?”

“She was buying a birthday gift.” Ianto frowned, he didn’t like to think of the pretty young woman being trapped in an abusive relationship. “Give it to me, I’ll take it to the pub and return it.”

“Is that wise?” Arwydd glared at him. She could tell what he was thinking. “He’s a nasty bit of work that husband of hers.”

“I know and that’s exactly why it’s the right thing to do. Can you stay here a while and keep an eye on Anouska – I shan’t be long.”

****************

“Good evening, is your wife here?”

“That depends on what you want with her.”

“She left something behind at my shop.”

“Well, let me have it. I’ll give it to her.”

At that point Ianto spotted Josephine wiping down the tables at the far end of the bar.

“It’s OK – I’ll give it to her myself.”

“You’re not buying a drink then?”

“I don’t-”

Gethin grabbed hold of Ianto’s wrist, preventing him from moving away from the bar.

“You know that coming into a pub looking for the landlord’s wife and not wanting a drink makes it look like you’re up to something,” Gethin growled in a tone that couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than threatening. “Maybe I’ll have to ask her if there’s something going on between the two of you.”

Ianto tugged his arm free and glared at the landlord. He pushed down the strong temptation to punch the man in the face – in his mind he had a vivid impression of the trajectory of his fist and the split lip, trickling with blood. He shook his head, shaking free the feeling of déjà vu.

“Fine. I’ll have a half pint of the Glaslyn ale.” Ianto pointed at the pump for the local ale. The label had an alarming picture of a purple moose – the emblem of the brewery based in Porthmadog.

The landlord poured the beer carelessly, resulting in the glass being half full of froth. Ianto could tell that he was hoping for an argument and an excuse to throw him out of the pub.

Taking the glass without a word, Ianto paid for his drink and then headed for Josephine. He took a sip of the golden, fruity flavoured beverage before setting the glass down carefully on a beer mat. Any other time he might have enjoyed it, but he’d not come to the pub to relax.

“What do you want?” asked Josephine quietly.

“You forgot this.” Ianto handed her the delicate green scarf and she snatched it from his hand and stuffed it into the pocket of her apron, disguising the action with a sweep of her duster.

“Now tell me what you really want.”

“To be your friend.”

“I don’t have friends. I’m not from around here, in case you’ve not guessed.”

She had a slight accent, one that sounded French.

“Josephine – hurry up – there are customers waiting to be served!” The landlord shouted, making sure they knew he was watching them like a hawk.

“In a minute – I’m just finishing here!” Josephine yelled back. Ducking her head down, she swiped a damp cloth across the table.

“I’m not a local either,” whispered Ianto. “I could do with a friend as well.”

“He talks about you. Says you’re not to be trusted.”

“I don’t give a damn about anything your husband says-”

“No, not him. Reynolds.”

“Josephine!”

“Sorry, I have to go.”

****************

Ianto rubbed his face as he tossed and turned in bed that night. He’d not intended to become embroiled in local affairs, but somehow he had. He would like to get Carys back on friendly terms with her mother; he wanted Arwydd to be able to spend time with her grandson and he desperately wanted to help Josephine escape the clutches of her brutal husband. Then there was that lonely man with the corgi, who pined for the attentions of the equally solitary widow – if he could somehow engineer a something there, then there would be two less lonely souls in the village.

Reynolds was the key – it seemed that it was his influence that was causing unnecessary anguish amongst decent people. Ianto sighed heavily, he couldn’t do it on his own and he had Anouska to think about. She depended on him.

****************

The following week saw a drop in trade at the shop. Ianto had his suspicions but no way of proving them.

Then, walking back from the Co-op with groceries, he spotted Lew sitting on a patch of grass sketching a dead pigeon. The drawing was excellent.

“You draw beautifully. Anouska likes to draw as well. She has lots of paints and coloured pencils, maybe you could-”

“I’m sorry, Mr Jones, but I can’t.” Lew gripped his pencil so tight his small knuckles turned white.

“Of course you can – any time,” Ianto interrupted, wondering what had given the boy the impression he wasn’t welcome.

“No, you don’t understand. I’m not allowed in the shop. Mr Reynolds talked to mum and now I’m banned. She said it’s forbidden – I’m really sorry. He’s been telling a lot of other people as well.”

“Ah well, I wouldn’t like you to get into trouble with your mother.” Ianto sighed and ruffled Lew’s hair.

Lew suddenly blanched and shoved his paper and pencils into his school bag before darting off without another word. Ianto turned to see the reason. Reynolds. Seeing red, Ianto stormed across the square and confronted the chairman of the parish council.

“Am I breaking any laws?”

“You tell me,” replied Reynolds sanctimoniously. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”

“Am I hurting anyone?” continued Ianto, seeing red.

“You’re asking me?” snorted the older man.

“Just what have you been telling people about me?” demanded Ianto.

“Only the truth.”

“Well – if you think I’m just going to shrivel up and blow away, you’re heading for a major disappointment.”

“Let me put this into perspective for you, Mr Jones. My family has served this community for centuries. Generation upon generation; keeping all the unwholesome, Godless elements out of the district. You and your chocolates present far less of a challenge. Trust me, you’ll be out of business by the New Year. I promise you that.”

Reynolds stormed off towards the church before Ianto had a chance to respond.

****************

Slamming the shop door behind him, wincing as it creaked on its hinges, Ianto dumped the bags of shopping down by the fridge in the back room and exhaled slowly. He hadn’t meant to get that angry, but there was something about Reynolds that drove him to despair.

He was startled to hear the bell on the door alerting him to the presence of someone in the shop. He bristled at the thought that Reynolds had followed him and was readying himself for round two when he saw that it wasn’t Reynolds, but Josephine standing there sheepishly holding her purse.

“I forgot to pay you for something the other day. I’m sorry.”

“Forget it – please, accept it as a gift.”

“No – people talk, they would lie about me. I don’t steal. Not on purpose.” 

Ianto noticed the way Josephine looked away from him, avoiding eye contact. It didn’t bother him if she did steal from him, what bothered him was the cause for her behaviour.

“There’s nothing to forgive, Josephine.”

“Humph ... forgiveness. Reynolds would suggest I confess my sins. You know he’s been telling folk that you don’t go to church.”

“That’s right, I don’t.” Ianto shrugged, not understanding why it was such a big deal.

“You won’t last long here. People talk. They say that you talk to children, encourage them to do things they shouldn’t.”

“What? They think I’m some sort of pervert?” Ianto was outraged now. “I have a daughter myself. I would never do anything improper -”

“I never said you would. It’s just… it’s just not done here. Adults tell children what to do, they don’t talk to them.”

“Well, the opinions of a bunch of bigots aren’t going to stop me acting like a human being.”

“You don’t understand do you? You don’t misbehave here. They just think you’re crazy if you don’t go to church, or if you don’t pretend that you want nothing more in your life than to serve your husband three meals a day and vacuum under his fat backside ...” Josephine rambled on, giving away far more than she intended. She shook her head and looked up to see Ianto’s eyes watching her with understanding rather than judgement. “You must think I’m stupid to stay with him.”

“No, I don’t think you’re stupid.”

“Well I am. I’m weak. I don’t love my husband and I lie.”

“Things could be different for you Josephine. Your husband doesn’t run the world.”

“He might as well.”

“Is that what you believe?”

“I know it,” sighed Josephine. “Please, don’t get involved.”

As Josephine left the shop, Ianto knew that there was no way he wasn’t going to get involved.

****************


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

_Then, a week before Christmas, the pirates appeared._

“Daddy, Daddy, come quickly … down at the canal, you must see them!”

“Slow down there,” Ianto called out as he crouched down to scoop the excited girl into his arms. “What is it? What’s by the canal?”

“River pirates! In coloured boats.”

“River pirates?”

“Come on – I want to see them properly.” Anouska grabbed hold of one of Ianto’s hands in both of hers and tugged as if she could pull him out of the shop with her force of will alone. “Lew won’t come with me.”

“Why not?”

“He’s scared that his mum will find out. She says he’s not allowed to go down to the canal.”

Ianto raised an eyebrow and tilted his head to one side.

“And what makes you think I won’t forbid you as well?”

“Because Myfanwy told me you’d come with me and that it would be alright.”

Ianto shook his head, knowing he’d indulge his daughter with almost anything she asked for and this was an easier request to fulfil than many. He wrapped a scarf around her neck and made her put on her mittens before putting on his own trench coat. He locked the door to the shop, took Anouska’s hand and let her drag him down the steps cut in the limestone that led down to the canal at the bottom of the valley.

He smiled when she squealed with excitement as they caught sight of bright red and yellow colours through what was left of the foliage on the trees. There were two narrow boats mooring up along the edge of the canal. A tall man in a long coat seemed to be taking charge, helping out with ropes and knots. On closer inspection it looked as though the boats belonged to a holiday company, based in Llangollen. However, most of the occupants seemed too young to be regular holiday-goers.

“I bet he’s the Captain.” Anouska pointed at the man who’d already caught Ianto’s eye.

“Why do you say that?” asked Ianto, frowning. Despite the reasonable deduction, he felt unnerved and found himself huddling down in his coat as a cold gust of wind seemed to spring out of the trees and take a swipe at his neck.

“He’s got stripes on his shoulders and shiny buttons. I’ll ask him.”

Before Ianto could stop her, Anouska has let go of his hand and was running over towards the man in the long coat.

“Anouska! Stop!” yelled Ianto as he saw her hurtling towards the water’s edge.

The tall man froze as he heard Ianto’s voice, he appeared to be caught off guard. He turned, just in time to reach out an arm to prevent the small girl from barrelling into the canal.

“Whoa there, sweetheart, you’re not dressed for swimming.” The man had an American accent and the biggest grin that Anouska had ever seen in real life.

“Are you the Captain?” blurted out Anouska.

“Me? No…not quite. I’m just helping out an old friend.”

“Anouska – manners, please,” puffed Ianto, out of breath from running to catch up with Anouska. “I apologise for my daughter. She doesn’t seem to be scared of anything.”

“Not a problem. She’s quite a handful I guess.”

“That she is.”

“Nice to meet you.” The stranger held out a hand to Ianto.

Ianto grasped the surprisingly warm hand and smiled at the firm handshake. He’d had more than his fair share of hostility since moving into the village and the friendly greeting felt like fresh water in a dessert. The stranger seemed just as delighted as his own smile reflected that of Ianto’s.

“Jones, Ianto Jones,” he introduced himself. “And you are?”

“Oh – Jack … just call me Jack.”

“Hey – are getting us into trouble again, Jack?” an older man called out as he emerged from the second boat. He was wearing brown corduroy trousers and a khaki sweater. He had about him the manner of a retired soldier.

“Who, me?” Jack smiled but didn’t take his eyes off Ianto.

“I’d like to apologise for him, for all of us for that matter.” The other man looked over his shoulder at the boats as the last of the passengers got back on board.

“Whatever for?” Ianto asked, baffled.

“For whatever it is you’re here to accuse us of – you are from the village aren’t you?”

“Well, yes, I suppose I am,” Ianto shrugged. “But why would I want to accuse you of anything?”

“You know - bringing the dregs of society to spoil the peace and quiet you’ve got here,” muttered the man as he double-checked the moorings.

“Um… I’m not sure what you mean, mister…?”

“Benton, just call me Benton. Every school holiday we hire a couple of boats to bring kids out of the city – get them to see some natural scenery for a change. Working together gives them a sense of responsibility. Trouble is the friendly locals aren’t so friendly once they see the kids. All they see are hoodies and they fear the worst.”

“Yeah – all armed to the teeth and riddled with criminal impulses,” added Jack, shuddering melodramatically.

“Sounds terrifying,” deadpanned Ianto.

“You don’t look terrified to me,” commented Jack, taking the opportunity to give Ianto a once over from head to toe.

“It passed.” Ianto smiled at Jack, picking up on the flirting and feeling an irresistible urge to encourage him. “Anyway, I’m not exactly a local – only been here a few weeks myself.”

“So what brought you down to the river, if you’re not going to wave a pitchfork at us?” asked Benton, looking puzzled.

“Anouska thought you were pirates.”

“And you brought your daughter to see us?” Jack winked at Anouska who was watching wide-eyed from behind her father’s legs. “Tsk tsk, what sort of father are you?”

“A very naughty one apparently.”

“Ooh - my favourite sort.”

“Jack! Leave the poor man alone, won’t you.” Benton admonished Jack sternly. “So what on earth are you doing here in the back end of beyond if you’re not a local?”

“I make and sell chocolates – well I try to.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” laughed Benton. “Now I’ve heard it all.”

“My daddy makes the best chocolates in the whole wide world,” stated Anouska defiantly. She was slightly in awe of the two tall men, but she wasn’t going to let them be rude about her beloved father.

“I’m sure he does, sweetheart.” Jack smiled indulgently at the little girl, before turning to his colleague to change the subject. “How’re the crews doing, Benton?”

“They’re heating soup and cooking sausages for dinner. We’ll need to go shopping for fresh supplies in the morning.”

“You mean pillaging, don’t you?” Jack shot a sidelong glance at Ianto’s daughter.

“Daddy, are they really pirates?” Anouska huffed, sensing that she was being teased. “They look more like soldiers to me.”

“Very astute, young lady – you could say that we both have a military background.” Benton raised an eyebrow in Jack’s direction. “But I suspect there are plenty of folk who’d go along with your description of Jack here as a bit of a rogue. Captain Jack the pirate? Rings a bell, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yeah – now you’re talking,” interjected Jack, with a grin. “He was gorgeous.”

“Oh please. Don’t tell me you slept with him as well!” Benton exclaimed, and then blushed slightly as he looked quickly towards Ianto and Anouska. “Sorry! It’s just-”

“Don’t worry on our account. Jack’s got a point – Johnny Depp was particularly handsome in that role.”

“There you go, even Mr Jones-”

“Ianto, please.”

“Ianto agrees with me.”

Jack looked away quickly finding something important to do with a coil of rope, hiding the fact he was biting his lip.

“Are you pirates or aren’t you?” demanded Anouska, stamping her feet in frustration at the men talking over her head.

Jack looked up from where he was tucking away the rope and gave Anouska a conspiratorial wink before leaning over to whisper loudly:

“Well I do have a treasure chest. Would you like to see it?”

Anouska’s eyes widened and she glanced up to her father for permission.

Ianto nodded, feeling that he could trust Jack. The fact that the two men had several school kids in their charge suggested they were trustworthy.

Jack wandered to the back of the boat he was standing on and pulled over a battered old chest. He then opened it to reveal all manner of carved wooden animals: fish, birds, whales, dolphins and even a few dinosaurs.

“Daddy, daddy – look he’s got a stegosaur.” Anouska pointed gleefully at the carved dinosaur, its back plates a jumble of sizes and shapes. “Please can I have it?”

“They’re very nice. Let me guess- they’re for sale?” asked Ianto.

“The kids make them and sell ’em for pocket money.” Benton explained.

“In that case, we’ll take it.” Ianto pulled his wallet from his back pocket and pulled out a ten pound note. “This do?”

“Sorry, I haven’t got any change.” Jack shrugged.

“Take it.” Ianto rolled his eyes at the old line and held the note out for Jack to take. As Jack took hold of the note, Ianto didn’t let go immediately, but met Jack’s eyes for long enough to let him know he was well aware of the game and was acquiescing to it.

“You’re too kind.”

“So I’ve been told.” Ianto raised an eyebrow to let the stranger know there were limits to how much he’d be taken advantage of.

Jack crouched down and plucked the stegosaur out of the mêlée of animals and handed it to Anouska.

“Here you go, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Anouska, we should make our way home before it gets dark.”

“Maybe we’ll see you around, in the morning.” Benton said, leaning out to shake Ianto’s hand. “Be nice to see one friendly face in the village.”

“I should probably warn you though, if you make friends with me, you’ll make enemies of others.”

“That a promise?” asked Jack with a wicked smile and a gleam in his sparkling blue eyes.

“Oh, I can guarantee it.” Ianto smiled in response.

On the way back up the steep, slippery steps, Ianto glanced down at Anouska who was clutching her latest dinosaur and singing to herself. He felt happier than he had since moving to the village. It seemed that their encounter with the ‘river pirates’ had lightened both of their hearts.

***********


	5. Chapter 5

C **hapter Five**

“So – I got your message – what’s so important that I had to postpone my morning nap?” Arwydd scowled at Ianto as she took a seat at the small table.

“Chocolate cake?” Ianto placed a tray on the table. To one side sat two plates, each with a slice of rich, dark chocolate gateau, thin layers of cake held together by velvety smooth ganache. 

“It does look good – but couldn’t that have waited?”

“Not if we’re having it with morning coffee.” Ianto pointed at the cafetiere and two cups and saucers. “Anyway, that’s not the only reason I needed you to come here this morning.”

“I’m not dropping the rent if that’s what this is all about.”

“No, and I wouldn’t dream of suggesting that.” Ianto poured each of them a cup of steaming hot coffee. To Arwydd’s he added a splash of cream, just the way she liked it, keeping his black.

“Good. So come on, spit it out. What is it you want to know?”

“You’ve never really told me what the problem is between you and Carys.”

“It’s none of your damn business,” said Arwydd grumpily, taking a sip of the coffee, savouring the flavour. “You should sell this, you know, it’s very good. Anyway, it’s not me that’s got the problem, it’s her. I’m an embarrassment to her. I swear, I read dirty books, I eat and drink what I like. And sin of sins... I refuse to be put in the old people’s home.”

“I don’t think that’s what they call them these days,” said Ianto, trying to be diplomatic.

“Doesn’t change what they are. Carys just loves the thought of a nurse with a clipboard, recording everything that goes in and comes out of my body. How would you like to have someone recording your every bowel movement?”

“They did – when I was in hospital,” murmured Ianto, vaguely recalling one of the indignities of being incarcerated in that sterile ward, away from all other patients, with just the one nurse who monitored him.

“Hmmm…” Arwydd hummed to herself. “Carys told me you’d collapsed that time. She thought you were going to have a fit-”

“I just fainted.” Ianto flushed a delicate pink, embarrassed at having to admit to the indomitable landlady that he’d passed out.

“Anything to do with that stay in hospital?” asked Arwydd sharply.

“Who knows?” Ianto tilted his head to one side as he looked into the distance. “Probably.”

Before any more questions could be asked the tiny bell above the door rang to announce a new customer. But instead of one of his regulars, it was young Lew, clutching his school bag to his chest secretively.

“She’s at the hairdressers.” The boy gasped, out of breath as if he had ran the whole way. “She’ll be there for about an hour.”

“Mr Jones! What have you done?” Arwydd glared at Ianto.

“Nothing… much. Just working out who would be where when and who could be here now. That’s all.”

“Stop talking in riddles, man. You arranged this, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged.”

Ianto picked up his cup of coffee and moved it to the counter. He returned with a glass of milk and motioned for Lew to take a seat.

“There’s chocolate cake there for you as well, make sure you wipe your mouth with the napkin.”

“I’m… I’m not supposed to-” stuttered the boy nervously.

“Don’t worry so much about what you’re not supposed to do,” tutted the boy’s grandmother. “Live a little.”

Ianto turned the sign around in the window to indicate that the shop was shut and pulled the venetian blinds down to prevent anyone looking in.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if anyone needs me.”

Before Ianto could slip behind the counter, Arwydd caught his arm and smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

******************

The hammering at the door drew Ianto out from the kitchen and he rushed through the shop to get to the door fearing some emergency concerning his daughter. He wondered if he’d been wise in letting her stay on the narrowboats that morning. He couldn’t forgive himself in anything had happened to her.

He apologised to Arwydd and Lew who had paused in their animated discussion to look towards the door. It looked as if Lew had been showing his grandmother some of the pictures he’d drawn in his sketch pad.

As he opened the door, Carys pushed past him, clutching a handful of flyers and looking flustered.

“Mr Jones – the parish council is asking that shopkeepers in the village put up these notices.”

Ianto took one and read it, shaking his head as he took in exactly what the notice said. He frowned as he handed it back to Carys.

“I’ve no intention of banning anyone from my shop without good reason.”

“They can’t be trusted. Those people are probably thieves and vandals-”

“Do you have any proof of that?” asked Ianto, raising his voice.

“Mr Reynolds says they are just like the scum involved in those riots and we don’t want that to happen here. He says we must stand firm.”

“Oh please –” Ianto was exasperated, but not surprised. He should have known Reynolds was behind this. “They’re children!”

“Mother!” Carys exclaimed, noticing for the first time that her mother and son were sitting in the shop.

“And how are you?” asked Arwydd frostily.

“I’m well – but what on earth do you think you’re doing?” Carys pointed at the plates, smeared with chocolate. She then turned to Ianto, fuming. “I bet she conveniently forgot to tell you-”

“Carys!” snapped Arwydd angrily.

“What? Are you afraid to tell him the truth?” Carys snatched the large handbag from her mother and tipped out the contents, clutching a slim box and opening it to reveal a small syringe. “Insulin. She has diabetes. It’s very advanced. She could be blind within a year.”

“Thank you, Carys. You could have said I was a drug addict. Might have sounded more glamorous.”

Arwydd held her bag open to one side of the table and unceremoniously pushed the contents back inside.

“And as for you!” Carys poked her finger into Ianto’s chest. “Feeding her chocolate cake and sweets-”

“There are worse ways to die,” interjected Arwydd. “It’s my life. Let me enjoy what’s left of it.”

“Why don’t you just give her rat poison? It would be faster,” said Carys bitterly.

“You’ll have to forgive my daughter – she has a flair for drama, always did, even at school.”

Arwydd squeezed her grandson’s hand to stop it trembling, she’d noticed that he was looking more nervous by the minute.

“You need to be in a place where you can be taken care of – properly.”

“I’d rather be in hell.”

“You may get there sooner than you think, mother.” Carys held out her hand to her son and beckoned him. “Lew, come with me.”

“I don’t want to.” Lew looked to Ianto beseechingly as if looking for support.

“He’s happy here,” stated Ianto. “It’s good for him to spend time with his grandmother.”

“I’ll be the judge of what’s good for my son, Mr Jones. Why don’t you concentrate on being a decent father to your own child first? Where is she anyway? Playing in the street?”

“No – I took her down to the canal this morning. She’s playing with the ‘scum’ on their boats.”

“Need I say more? You’re a disgrace, Mr Jones. I’ve a good mind to inform social services. You’re not fit to be a parent. Your daughter would be better off in care.”

Carys then grabbed hold of Lew’s hand and virtually dragged him out of the shop before Ianto could say another word. He was silently fuming as he looked back at Arwydd who was dabbing the chocolate from the corners of her mouth with the edge of the napkin he’d set out for Lew.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” demanded Ianto, even though he knew he was venting his anger unfairly.

“Is this a chocolate shop or a confessional?”

Ianto shook his head forlornly, feeling as if all his good intentions had been misguided and that he’d done more harm than good.

“Don’t you dare pity me, Ianto – or yourself for that matter. Come on, let’s go for a drink – I could do with a brandy and you look as if you need one as well. Let’s give the locals something else to gossip about.”

**************

Ianto had tried to decline Arwydd’s invitation, explaining that Anouska would be returning at lunchtime and that he didn’t want her finding the shop empty. She had just told him to put a note in the door and that if he’d trusted her in the care of the men on the boats, he could trust them to find him in the pub.

He’d taken Anouska down to the waterside that morning as she wanted another look at the boats and Jack had invited them on board. She had been fascinated by the brightly coloured interior and the narrow galley kitchen. She’d been reluctant to return to the village so soon after discovering the inside of the ‘pirate’s ship’, especially as Jack had gathered his gang of youngsters around the table to have squash and biscuits as he told them outrageous tales of his travels. The children were younger than they appeared, ranging from eleven to thirteen, all boys, but they took to Anouska immediately, treating her like a little sister. They had all shuffled along the bench seat to make room for her and one of them had fetched a glass of orange squash for her.

So when Jack had offered to bring her back to the village when they came up to buy supplies, Ianto had readily accepted the offer. Despite what Carys had said, Anouska did need the company of other children, and she did not seem to have made many friends at the local school apart from Lew. 

A quick glance at the clock on the church tower suggested it would be another twenty minutes before the visitors made their way to the village. Just enough time to escort Arwydd to the pub and to have a drink to keep her company.

On the way, he spotted the flyers in shop windows, including one of the obnoxious signs in the window of the Co-op across the road from the pub. He wished he could warn Jack and Benton before they tried to take any of their charges inside the store.

Once in the pub, Arwydd ignored his suggestion that they sit near the window, saying she preferred the booths near the back. It was as he sat down with her, sipping his beer as she took a long draft of her brandy that he heard a commotion at the bar. He turned around to see Benton walk in with one of the young lads beside him.

“He’d like a ginger ale, please.”

“I don’t serve animals,” snarled Gethin pointing at the flyer he’d stuck on the front of the till.

“He’s got an upset stomach – we just want a glass of ginger ale. I’ll take the bottle with us, if you’re worried about losing your licence –”

“Just leave.”

Ianto stood up, patting Arwydd’s hand as she reached out to still him.

“It’s OK, I’m not going to get into a fight, not today,” Ianto quietly reassured the older woman. “I’ll see you later.”

Benton spotted Ianto approaching and smiled wearily.

“I see we’re banned already.”

“Come with me,” said Ianto softly, opening the door and ushering out the retired soldier and his young charge.

“My tummy hurts,” whimpered the young boy at Benton’s side as they followed in Ianto's wake.

“I’ve got just the thing for that – crystallised ginger.” Ianto smiled as he headed back towards his shop.

“Daddy!” shouted Anouska from the church steps where she was sitting with Jack and a small troop of young boys.

“You’d all better come in – you’ll freeze out there,” Ianto called out.   
  
“What about boycotting immorality?” asked Jack with a grin.

“I’m a lost cause,” replied Ianto with a cheeky wink.

After giving the boy with an upset stomach a piece of ginger, Ianto made mugs of hot chocolate for all ten boys and the two adults. He also fetched a tray of chocolate Christmas trees with green and red icing decorations to hand out.

Anouska was beyond excited to have the pirates inside her home and she rushed around handing out cushions so that the boys could sit comfortably on the floor of the shop.

“Don’t sit there, that’s Myfanwy’s place.” Anouska chided one boy who’d sat on the bottom step of the stairs.

“Who’s she?” asked the boy, looking confused.

“She’s my pteranodon,” replied Anouska indignantly.

“It’s alright, Anouska, she won’t mind him sitting there for now. He’s a guest, remember your manners.”

Jack smiled fondly at Ianto, knowing full well that his act of kindness would only alienate him even more from the locals. He could also tell how much the father and daughter loved each other and couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. As for the pteranodon, that would have bothered him more if Ianto had seemed disturbed by it, but he seemed to be dealing with it with well-practiced ease.

“Here – try this,” suggested Ianto, having snuck up on Jack unawares. He was holding out a snowman shaped confection – two different sized champagne truffles stuck together and coated in white chocolate, decorated with coloured icing. “Go ahead, it’s your favourite.”

“What makes you so sure?” smiled Jack, opening his mouth and inviting Ianto to feed him.

Ianto obliged by placing the head of the snowman between Jack’s lips and grinning as he bit down, through the slight crunch of the outer shell and into the soft truffle. Jack managed to catch Ianto’s fingers with the tip of his tongue as he licked his lips.

“That’s fantastic,” said Jack as he swallowed the morsel of chocolate, groaning obscenely as he savoured the last remnants of flavour.

“Thanks. I have a knack for guessing-”

“It’s good, but it’s not my favourite.” Jack smiled enigmatically as he watched Ianto’s eyebrows arch upwards in disbelief.

Without breaking eye contact with Jack, Ianto proceeded to eat the rest of the chocolate snowman, licking the melted truffle from his fingers as he did so. He had been so certain that he’d figured Jack out, but the more he looked the more he realised that there was something he was missing.

From across the room Benton frowned as he wondered what the hell Jack was playing at. 

**************


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The door to the chocolate shop squealed on its hinges as Ianto shoved it open with his back.

“Can someone take these from me, please?” he asked holding out several carrier bags crammed with supplies of sliced bread, cheese, eggs, bacon and fruit.

“Come on, boys, get to it!” ordered Benton.

The youngsters scrambled up from their seats to take the bags from Ianto.

“They didn’t give you any trouble did they?” Benton asked as he took the receipt from Ianto. “You’ve already been very hospitable to us, you didn’t have to do our shopping for us as well.”

“At the end of the day, it’s business for them. They’re not bad people, just intimidated by the local parish council.”

“Well, all the same, I really appreciate you helping us out and if there’s ever anything I can do in return don’t hesitate to let me know.” Benton shook Ianto’s hand and then turned to the boys who were waiting for instructions. “Right, lads, let’s get this food back to the boats and then we can set off for a hike while there’s still some daylight left.”

Whilst some of the older boys headed out, carrying bags of groceries, a few stayed behind to gather up the empty mugs.

“Are you staying here much longer?” Ianto asked Benton.

“Until tomorrow morning,” Benton answered. “Then, once we’ve had our bacon butties, we’re off to visit with an old friend of mine. She married a professor and they live on a research station west of here.”

“Hey – that’s not as dull as it sounds!” exclaimed Jack, hearing a disgruntled sigh from one of the older boys. “It’s actually a top-secret scientific research laboratory deep in the hills of Wales and your ‘old friend’ used to work with an even ‘older’ friend of mine.”

Ianto couldn’t help but pick up the genuine excitement in Jack’s voice.

“Thank you for reminding me that I should be dreading the thought of you sharing stories with Jo,” grumbled Benton, rolling his eyes. “Anyway, he was a different man then, you know – that ‘old friend’ of yours. Mind you, his dress sense has improved since then – he used to wear the most ridiculous frilly shirts.”

“Really? You’ll have to tell me more.”

Ianto felt ill at ease for some indefinable reason. He’d only just met these people, yet he had the strangest sensation jealousy as he saw Jack’s eyes light up as they discussed this mysterious man.

“Maybe we’ll see you again before we head off then, Mr Jones?” called out Benton, as gathered up the last two bags of provisions and walked through the door that Jack was holding open.

“Ianto – please, it’s Ianto, not Mr Jones.”

Moments later, as the door swung closed, Ianto was standing alone in his shop with Jack. Anouska had made her way upstairs, returning the cushions to their place on the sofa.

“Well, perhaps-”

“Maybe-”

They had both started talking at the same time.

Shaking his head slowly as if changing his mind about what he was about to say, Jack grabbed hold of the door handle and tugged the door open quickly causing the hinges to groan in complaint.

“You know, I could fix that, if you like. I could come by later-”

“You don’t need to,” said Ianto half-heartedly.

“I know I don’t need to – but I’d like to. In return for what you’ve done for the kids.”

“Will you be able to leave them?”

“After supper we let them all watch a DVD of their choice if they’ve been good. I could come over then, Benton can watch over them if they’re all on one boat.”

“Alright then, that would be great… I mean, good … yeah. Well, I’ll see you later, Jack.”

“That you will.” Jack grinned as he reluctantly left the shop and jogged to catch up with the others.

“He’s nice. I like him.” Anouska’s voice cut through Ianto’s thoughts as if reading them.

“Me too,” sighed Ianto, wondering what it was about the brash American that attracted him. “Come on, we need to make some more chocolate Christmas trees to replace the ones we gave away.”

**********

It was dark by four o’clock and there had been very little business in the shop all day. It occurred to Ianto that his actions earlier may have been responsible for the lack of custom, but he didn’t care.

Anouska had wanted to wait up to see the ‘pirate captain’, but Ianto had insisted she get an early night. She’d been snuffling a little and he was worried that she was catching a cold. He’d made her a hot honey and lemon drink, letting it cool a little before giving it to her to drink. She’d pulled a face, but had fallen asleep half way through her bedtime story about dinosaurs in space.

Ianto was busying himself in the kitchen when he heard the tapping at the door announcing Jack’s presence. He chided himself for being excited. Even if there was a mutual attraction, there was no point in pursuing it. Jack would be gone the next day.

As soon as Jack was inside the shop he put a tool box down on the floor and began to take off his great coat. Ianto quickly moved forward to help him, feeling as if he’d done exactly the same thing a thousand times before. For some reason it came naturally to him. He smiled as he saw that Jack was wearing both braces and a belt and it occurred to him that perhaps the flirtatious captain had trouble keeping his trousers up.

If it had been earlier in the day, Ianto would have offered Jack a coffee, but it was late in the evening, so he offered him an alcoholic drink – after all, neither of them were driving and Anouska was safely tucked up in bed.

“I’m sorry – but all I can offer you are spirits. I use them in the chocolates. Not much call for a beer-flavoured truffle.”

“I guess not,” commented Jack, as he placed a wedge under the door before loosening the screws on the hinges. “I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

Ianto considered carefully and then selected the bottle of single malt whisky. He poured a small amount in each of two plain glass tumblers, despite knowing the golden liquid would look better in sparkling cut glass.

“A toast?” asked Ianto as he handed over one glass to Jack.

“Why not? Here’s to … immort … I mean immorality. Here’s to immorality!”

Ianto frowned as he heard Jack stumble over the words. Surely he’d not been drinking already.

“You’re a bad man, Jack. You’ll get me into trouble, but what the hell – to immorality.” Ianto raised his glass and smiled.

After each man had swallowed a mouthful of the warming drink, Jack put his glass down on the nearest table and pointed at the door.

“Between us we should be able to lift it off its hinges.”

“Yeah, of course.” Ianto sat his glass down next to Jack’s and moved to his side.

They worked together taking the door down and then preparing it for re-hanging. The hinges were oiled and the base of the door planed down so that it no longer scraped on the door frame whenever it was opened and shut. Once happy with it, Jack asked Ianto to hold onto the door whilst he tightened the screws.

The two men were of an equivalent height and as they stood shoulder to shoulder wrestling with the awkward door, they turned to say something to each other at exactly the same time, and being pressed so closely together, their noses bumped and their lips almost came into contact. Ianto could taste the whisky on Jack’s breath and involuntarily licked his lips. As he did so, Jack leaned closer and tilted his head to one side as if he was about to kiss Ianto.

“Daddy? Daddy – Myfanwy can’t sleep.” Anouska’s plaintive, sleepy voice caused Ianto to look around quickly, causing Jack’s lips to crash into his ear.

“One minute, sweetheart. I’ll be with you once the door is back on properly.”

Ianto swallowed hard as he tried to focus on the job at hand. He wasn’t sure if he was more worried about his young daughter almost catching him kissing another man or the fact that, after so long without intimate contact with anyone, he’d been about to kiss this particular man. Part of him felt robbed of something he’d been craving for. He found himself figuratively, and literally, torn between duty to his daughter and his own desires. Perhaps there was a way he could fulfil both?

“Maybe she’s hungry?” Jack asked Anouska as he placed the screwdriver he’d been using back in the tool box.

“I think you’re right. I think she is hungry.” Anouska nodded as she sat down at the bottom of the stairs. She wondered why her daddy was looking pink and quietly asked Myfanwy what she thought. She nodded at the reply she got. Her daddy was happy. He was still smiling.

“What do pteranodons eat? Does she like chocolate?”

“No, she’s not interested in chocolate.” Anouska shook her head.

“Why, Myfanwy – I’m shocked. Not interested in new flavours after all these years on Earth? You should be ashamed of yourself. How do you know you don’t like chocolate unless you try it? What do you think, Ianto? Maybe a nice truffle?”

“What, one of the dark chocolate ones?”

“You’re both wasting your time,” giggled Anouska. “She eats spiders and worms and flies.”

“Instead of chocolate?” Jack gasped in mock horror.

“Do you like worms?” Anouska asked him mischievously.

“What?”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried one?”

“She has a point,” stated Ianto with a straight face.

“OK – fair enough.” Jack shrugged and stepped outside the shop for a moment or two. When he returned there was a earthworm dangling from between his fingers. “Here goes.”

Jack then closed his hand and held it to his lips and opened his mouth, pretending to slurp up the earthworm like a piece of spaghetti. He chewed thoughtfully as if relishing the taste. Anouska squealed excitedly.

“Oh yeah, subtle, zesty … kinda …yeah, disgusting!”

By this time, Anouska was laughing out loud at Jack’s antics. Then her eyes widened as he slowly opened his hand to reveal the earthworm – still intact. Jack grinned at Anouska and then went outside once more to release the creature.

“You tricked me!” Anouska pouted at Jack when he came back inside.

“That’s enough excitement for the night, young lady – back to bed with you. I’ll be up to say goodnight after Jack has left. Go on – vamoose!”

“Goodnight, Captain Jack,” Anouska said as she dashed across to hug Jack’s leg before rushing back up the stairs.

“She likes you,” smiled Ianto. _And so do I,_ he thought to himself.

“She’s adorable.” _And so are you,_ thought Jack wistfully.

“Thanks for the door – no squeaks anymore.”

Ianto reached out to take hold of the door handle opening and closing the door a few times. He didn’t know what else to say, how to recapture the moment when Anouska had interrupted them. He wasn’t sure if he should say anything, or whether he should just let it be forgotten.

“Thanks for the whisky,” Jack glanced across at the two empty glasses sat on the counter. He then plucked his coat from the back of the chair, realising that he was running out of reasons to still be there.

Ianto took the coat and shook it out before holding it out for Jack to put on. After Jack had fastened the buttons and tugged at the sleeves, Ianto held out a hand as if to shake hands before parting, he was taken aback when Jack grasped his hand and then pulled him into a tight hug. He could feel the older man press a kiss to his head as he held him close.

“You take good care of yourself, Ianto Jones.”

Then, in a swish of coattails and a gust of wind that blew dead leaves into the shop, Jack was gone.

********************


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Ianto had been tossing and turning in his sleep, his mind replaying that moment when he’d nearly kissed Jack and his imagination providing details on what could have happened thereafter. He’d been in the midst of a particularly explicit fantasy when he was woken from his slumbers by a loud rattling at the front door. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and then put his head around the door of Anouska’s bedroom, to tell her to stay put whilst he went to find out what was going on. He then grabbed a t-shirt and pulled it over his head as he stumbled down the bare wooden stairs.

Through the frosted glass Ianto could make out the silhouette of their unexpected visitor. He was momentarily disappointed that it wasn’t six foot tall and wearing a thick woollen coat. Instead, the figure was a few inches shorter, female and not wearing a coat at all. He quickly unlocked the door to let the woman in.

“I’m sorry … I didn’t know where else to go.”

It was Josephine, her face stained with tears, a bruise on her cheek and a bloodied cut on her lip. She was shaking uncontrollably.

“Come on, sit down, you’re in a terrible state – come on.”

“I can’t go back … please don’t make me go back.”

“You can stay here as long as you need to. Don’t worry about that. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“He was so drunk … so drunk … he was passed out on the bed… then he woke up, he saw me packing. He tried to stop me, tried to come after me, but he couldn’t – I’d already tied his feet with his own belt. He fell over-” Josephine began to laugh with more than an edge of panic. “Boom! Right on his face – his big, red face.”

“Good.”

“It’s stupid isn’t it? I never blamed him and sometimes I just forgot what really happened. I began to believe I was just clumsy and that’s where the bruises came from.”

Josephine rubbed her arms, inadvertently lifting the cuffs of her thin blouse to reveal rings of bruises about her wrists. She started to sob, releasing the tears that she’d kept locked away for so long. Ianto gently wrapped his arms around her and held her in a loose embrace, allowing her to take whatever comfort or support she needed.

“Daddy – what’s happening?”

Both Ianto and Josephine turned to see Anouska, clutching her cuddly red dragon, standing at the bottom of the stairs. Ianto could tell she was scared, she always grabbed the dragon when she was frightened.

“Josephine is going to be staying with us for a while. She’s had an upset and needs to be with friends. Is that alright with you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, daddy, of course it is,” Anouska readily agreed and then she frowned, looking worried. “But where will she sleep?”

“In my bed.”

Ianto felt Josephine become tense in his arms. He swore silently under his breath, the last thing he’d wanted to do was to have her think he was going to take advantage of her vulnerability. He stroked her hair gently and hushed her.

“No, no, it’s alright. You can have my room and I’ll take the sofa.”

“But Mr Jones – you shouldn’t have to give up your room for me.” Josephine began to protest. “I’ll sleep on the floor if I have to – anywhere will be better than going back to that, that ...”

“No arguments, I insist. Come on.”

Ianto picked up the small bag that Josephine had brought with her and held out his free hand. She clutched hold of his hand as if he was a lifeline.

After collecting a spare pillow and a blanket from his room, Ianto left Josephine alone. He’d made her a mug of chocolate, taking care not to fill it too full, her hands were still shaking and he didn’t want her to be upset if she spilt any.

He wondered if Arwydd would be upset at him taking in waifs and strays, but he knew that she felt just as strongly as he did about Josephine’s bully of a husband. She’d used a few choice words to describe him that had shocked Ianto.

**************

The following morning Ianto was woken by the sound of a fist thumping on the front door of the chocolate shop. He wondered if it was Gethin, come to collect his wife, and he warily looked out of the window before venturing downstairs. He wasn’t afraid to take him on but didn’t want Anouska to witness his anger. However, it wasn’t Josephine’s husband, but his other nemesis, the parish councillor, Reynolds. Ianto ran his hands through his hair and then went down the stairs to open the door, taking the precaution of keeping his foot behind it, preventing the other man from pushing past him into the shop.

“Rumour has it that you’re harbouring the landlord’s wife.”

“Her name is Josephine,” stated Ianto, irritated that this man persisted in refusing to recognise people as individuals.

“Is it true? Is she hiding here?”

“You make her sound like a runaway.” Ianto kept his voice calm, but he was seething inside.

“She is – she has run away from her duty as a wife. She has deserted her marriage vows by brazenly taking up with another man.” Reynolds poked his finger in Ianto’s chest. “Vows she took in the very church that you refuse to accept. While it doesn’t surprise me that you’d encourage a married woman to leave her husband, she should be ashamed of herself.”

“I have done nothing more than provide Josephine with refuge from a violent man – surely that’s something your church would approve of?” Ianto raised his voice, outraged at the fact that Reynolds was twisting the situation to make himself and Josephine the wrongdoers.

“What do you mean, violent?” Reynolds faltered.

“Come out here a moment, you’re safe, I won’t let him take you anywhere you don’t want to go.”

Ianto had seen Josephine standing at the bottom of the stairs out of the corner of his eye. He beckoned her to join him.

“Let him have a look at you.”

Ianto put an arm around Josephine’s shoulders protectively as she stepped into the doorway.

“What marriage vows make this acceptable?” Ianto lifted the hair back from the woman’s face to show the bruising which had developed more overnight.

“Did your husband do this to you?” asked Reynolds, not unkindly.

“Yes and it wasn’t the first time,” replied Josephine defiantly, feeling able to speak out at last.

“I’m truly sorry.” Reynolds was genuinely appalled by what he saw. “You should have come to me. Your husband will be made to apologise for this.”

“He can apologise all he wants. It’s too late. I’m not going back to him.”

“So, it is true that you have moved in with Mr Jones then.” Reynolds looked at Ianto curiously as he asked one more question.

“Not like that,” answered Josephine. “He let me have his room and slept on the sofa. He is a gentleman and a friend.”

“I see.”

Nodding his head as if absorbing the truth of the matter – which was totally at odds with the story he’d been fed by Gethin – Reynolds took a deep breath and bid them a good day before turning away.

Just as Ianto was about to close and lock the door, Reynolds stopped in his tracks and turned around sharply.

“I shall make things right, Mr Jones. You have my word.”

****************

It was late in the morning by the time they got down to the canal and the boats were gone. Ianto was disappointed that they’d missed Jack, but he knew that he’d had no choice but to stay in the shop until he shut for lunch.

With Christmas fast approaching, Ianto had got Josephine to help to decorate the display window and the small tree he’d bought for Anouska. He knew that she needed something to keep her mind occupied and she was grateful for the opportunity to repay his kindness in any way she could. He had asked if she wanted to come down to the canal with them, but she had preferred to stay indoors, out of sight.

When Ianto returned to the shop with a grumpy Anouska, annoyed that they’d missed the ‘pirates’, he didn’t have much time to analyse his own feelings as he found himself having to deal with an unexpected onslaught of customers.

He was surprised by the number of people who’d never been in his shop before popping in to buy last minute gifts, but a few overheard comments gave him cause to believe to understand they wanted to give him business to show their approval of his coming to the rescue of Josephine. Many evidently felt guilty for not having done anything themselves. They’d watched on as her husband had emotionally abused her for years, but they’d been too intimidated by the bully of a man to say or do anything. They weren’t quite ready to congratulate Ianto for having the courage to help a woman in need, when they’d done nothing, but they made sure his shelves were emptied by the end of the day.

****************

After Anouska had gone to bed, Ianto took Josephine into the kitchen and got her to put on an apron. She’d been willing to learn how to help him make chocolates and he’d got her started on truffles. He was watching out of the corner of his eye as she rolled the truffles carefully in cocoa powder, all the time watching the flaked almonds he was gently toasting in the skillet.

The peace was shattered as the sound of breaking glass caused both of them to abandon what they were working on.

“Josephine, you think you can walk out on me? You stupid woman! You worthless bitch – you’re nothing without me!”

It was Gethin. He’d smashed the glass window in the door and had put his hand through to unlock the door.

“You can’t even put a decent meal on the table, you’re so stupid you can’t use a frying pan!” Gethin’s voice was slurred – he’d apparently been drinking heavily.

“He’s here – oh my God, he’s inside!” Josephine had sunk down to the floor, hiding behind the large wooden table, shaking in fear.

“I know you’re in here! You’re sleeping with him you aren’t you? That piece of shit – he’s not a real man. I’ll make him pay for taking advantage of another man’s wife. Where are you, Josephine? I need to talk to you. Come out – now!”

Ianto patted Josephine’s head in reassurance and then ventured out into the shop front. He would rather have avoided a confrontation, but he didn’t want Gethin wandering around, perhaps going upstairs, not with Anouska up there by herself. There was glass all over the floor and the man responsible had one of the wooden chairs in one hand, wielding it like a weapon as he staggered towards Ianto.

“Go and sleep it off, Gethin. Get out of my home now and I’ll forget about this.”

“To hell with you, you arrogant bastard! You’ve caused enough trouble already.”

Ianto smiled humourlessly as a phrase went through his head along the lines of ‘doing some attacking’. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever had to fight or even if he could if he had to, but his body was responding as if there was muscle memory of taking a defensive stance and being ready to react.

“I don’t want to fight with you, just get out and leave us in peace.”

Gethin swayed and seemed ready to let go of the chair when suddenly he spun round letting the chair fly at Ianto, catching him off-guard as the heavy wooden back caught him on the bridge of his nose. Ianto felt a sharp pain and the sensation of warm, wet blood flowing freely down his chin.

“Shit!” Ianto exclaimed.

Gethin loomed over Ianto where he’d crumpled to the floor, clutching his nose. He’d picked up the chair and was about to attack Ianto again, when Ianto swung his legs out toppling the larger man as his momentum carried him face down into the counter.

Scrambling to his feet, Ianto swiftly wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and them grabbed the older man by the jacket, intent on hauling him towards the door. But Gethin was holding on furiously refusing to budge and then the older man found a knife behind the counter – the one that Ianto kept there for cutting pieces of cake. Grinning to himself, he relaxed, catching Ianto off guard and then spun around, swinging the knife in wild arcs aiming for any part of the man he could reach.

Ianto stepped back, broken glass crunched under his feet as he slowly moved around the table, grabbing hold of a chair to defend himself from his crazed attacker.

Then there was flurry of activity as Josephine darted out of the kitchen wielding a skillet, burnt flakes of almonds went flying as she raised the pan above her husband’s head. Gethin spun around clumsily, startled by the sight of his wife.

“You- ?”

Josephine didn’t give her husband time to finish his sentence, she swung the pan, gripping the handle in both hands as she aimed it at the back of Gethin’s head. He dropped like a fly, collapsing in a heap amongst the shards of glass.

“Who says I can’t use a frying pan?” Josephine announced angrily, with tears running down her face.

“Wonderful,” muttered Ianto, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stem the bleeding.

“Yes. Looks like his skull isn’t as thick as I thought it was.”

Ianto reached out and took the frying pan away from Josephine, who was starting to shake from the shock of her actions.

“Hey, it’s OK. The worst is over – looks like he found out what you’re made of.”

“So did I,” admitted Josephine, as a fragment of her self-esteem restored itself.

“Josephine, I need you to stay strong a little while longer. Please go upstairs and look after Anouska for me. Tell her I’ll be up as soon as I can. Please.”

They both looked at the stairs, they could hear Anouska crying at the top of the stairs. Ianto didn’t want to imagine what she’d heard or seen. Although he desperately wanted to comfort his daughter, he had no intention of letting her see the blood on his face and shirt.

“Of course.”

Without further persuasion, Josephine ran up the stairs, calling out words of comfort on her way – reassurances that everything was going to be alright.

As soon as Ianto heard the door to Anouska’s bedroom close, he checked Gethin to see if there was a pulse. Part of him knew he should have checked straightaway, but he had his reasons for not doing so. If the man was dead, he didn’t want Josephine to be held responsible, she’d suffered enough already. Gethin had invaded his home, he’d been a threat and whatever had befallen him, he’d brought upon himself. If he was dead, Ianto would dispose of the body, he knew that he could make it look like a drunken accident. A body at the bottom of the steep steps down to the river with a high blood alcohol level and a head injury would be a story the local police force would buy. He didn’t stop to wonder why he could so calmly think of a way to cover up a suspicious death.

However, Gethin wasn’t dead, just unconscious. He pulled up the man’s eyelids, noting the pupils responding to the bright lights. If it had been anyone else, he’d have called for a doctor, maybe an ambulance, but there was a steely part of him that put a damper on any feelings of compassion. This man would have beaten his wife and not called for help with her injuries, so he deserved no assistance with his own.

Ianto dragged Gethin unceremoniously by his feet out of the shop and dumped him on the steps outside the church. He looked around to see if the noise had awoken any of his neighbours, but there were no lights on in any of the windows and no twitching curtains he could detect. He idly wondered if the villagers would turn a blind eye if they did witness his actions. If it wasn’t for Anouska, he wouldn’t care.

He put his blood-stained shirt in the dustbin and then returned to the shop kitchen to wash his face and hands. Then, when he’d stopped shaking, he went upstairs and opened the door to his daughter’s bedroom. Josephine was curled up in the chair next the bed, holding Anouska’s hand. He nodded in gratitude, kissed Anouska on the forehead and returned to the living room, where he sat in the dark, cradling a glass of whisky in his hands.

There were strange images flashing through his head, like someone else’s memories. A blood-stained body, half covered with a tarpaulin. When he shut his eyes he could feel the weight of the body on his shoulder as he carried it away to a hiding place. He took a gulp of whisky, letting the spirit burn his throat, distracting him from images he couldn’t understand.

****************

The following day the pub didn’t open. Gethin had disappeared. Nobody knew where he’d gone.

In the afternoon a glazier turned up to replace the glass in the shop door. He couldn’t say who’d requested for his services, only that he’d been paid upfront for the job and been instructed to install toughened glass.

As Ianto stood on his doorstep, looking across towards the church, he shivered as the north wind blew through the square making the branches of the village Christmas tree tremble. There was something at work beyond his understanding and that made him feel uneasy.

****************


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It was spring. The weather was finally warming up and the flowers of the daffodils were fading in the terracotta pots outside the door of the shop to be replaced by the spear-shaped leaves of tulips. The shop window was filled with Easter eggs and chocolate rabbits, surrounded by a tableau of paper flowers and spring motifs. Outside the shop Ianto was sitting at a small wooden table, sharing a pot of coffee with his landlady.

They were both looking at the front of the pub, admiring the hanging baskets of pansies and window boxes crammed with brightly coloured primroses. Josephine had moved back to the pub when it became clear that Gethin wasn’t returning. Apparently the brewery that owned the pub had received notification that her husband had given up the tenancy and they’d offered her the role of caretaker landlady until a permanent replacement could be found. She’d changed the character of the pub gradually, offering more in the way of bar food and screening off one end as a family room where children were welcomed. Now, in the bright spring sunshine it was like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis. The start of the school holidays was already bringing in more trade and Ianto was confident that Josephine would make a real success of the business.

“She would never have done it without your influence, you know.”

“She might have-”

“Nonsense – take credit where it’s due, lad.”

“I’m proud of her.”

“Me too,” agreed Arwydd heartily as she carefully sat her cup back in its saucer. “Which brings me to the reason for my visit.”

“Oh yes? Are you putting my rent up?”

“Not at all – I want you to throw a birthday party for me.”

“If I threw a party, I’m not sure if anyone would come,” Ianto shook his head sadly. “I’m sure that Reynolds still suspects me of promoting immorality. ”

“Nonsense. That was all about him not wanting anyone else to have any fun just because his wife had up and left him.”

“I though that was just a rumour. Isn’t she just staying with some sick aunt in Cheshire?”

Arwydd snorted and shook her head.

“Carys works for him – she told me that Mrs Reynolds had sent instructions for her clothes to be sent to her.”

“And?”

“All of them. Have you any idea of how many clothes a woman can accumulate?”

“Sadly not.”

“Oh. I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to make you feel bad.”

“Never mind,” muttered Ianto, as he poured himself another cup of coffee. “Tell me more about this party you’ve got in mind. ”

“I’m going to be ninety and it might be my last chance to show the people in this village how to live. I want to go down dancing!”

“I’m not sure I’m up for a wild party with dancing and you’re definitely not well enough to face it.”

Ianto knew that his landlady’s health had been deteriorating over the winter. He’d barely seen her since Christmas. He’d been surprised to receive her summons that morning to meet for coffee.

“Come on, you’re younger than you act. Do this for me and I promise I’ll check into that damn nursing home without any protests at the end of the month without a care in the world.”

“Arwydd, listen, I-”

“No, no – you listen. I need this. I want to pay Josephine to put on a buffet – she’s a good cook and the publicity will help her business. And I want you to organise the party and bake me a cake.”

“Chocolate cake?” suggested Ianto, knowing the answer.

“Of course. One of those Black Forest gateaux if you think you can manage.”

“Chocolate, cream and alcohol?” Ianto rolled his eyes dramatically. “That daughter of yours will have me arrested for attempted murder. Where are you planning on having this extravaganza? The pub?”

“No – my house. If the weather holds up we can have it in the garden.”

“How many people are we catering for?”

“Depends on how many accept the invitations.”

“A party?” piped up Anouska who had been listening in from the bottom of the stairs, her favourite place to sit unobserved. “Will there be pirates?”

The local school had broken up for the Easter break and Anouska had been pestering Ianto non-stop about the ‘pirates’, wanting to know when they would be coming back. He had told her to wait and see, despite his own yearnings to see Jack Harkness again. He’d not been able to shake off his disappointment at not having seen the man since their close encounter.

“Pirates?” asked Arwydd, confused.

“Captains Harkness and Benton,” explained Ianto with a small smile. “The two men who arrange boat holidays for inner city kids in the holidays.”

“Friends of yours?” asked Arwydd perceptively.

“I only met them the once-” Ianto shrugged insouciantly.

“Yes, they’re daddy’s special friends,” interrupted Anouska, before whispering conspiratorially to the older woman: “They made him happy.”

“Is that right?” whispered Arwydd in reply, noticing how the young man in question had suddenly decided to busy himself stacking the cups and saucers on a tray before taking them back inside.

Anouska just nodded. She knew she wasn’t the only one to have missed the pirates after they’d gone. When she’d got her father to take her on walks by the canal she’d seen the wistful look in his eye as he gazed along the footpath into the distance. He looked just the same whenever she mentioned them and he always changed the subject.

“I’ll see what I can do. Not sure how to get an invitation to a pirate. Maybe I could put it in a bottle and throw it into the river? What do you think, Ianto?”

“What’s that?” Ianto asked as he sat back down, a notepad in his hand.

“Message in a bottle?”

“Wasn’t that the Police?” Ianto frowned as he took the lid off his pen and started to write. “About this cake, when do you want it for?”

As he wrote down the details, Ianto missed the look of joy on his daughter’s face as Arwydd winked at her.

***********************

Three weeks later and everything was in place for the party. There was an awning set up in Arwydd’s back garden and trestle tables set out covered with crisp white tablecloths.

Ianto had been working hard, arranging the party and trying to keep it a secret from all but those invited. His final task was collecting the cake from his own kitchen. He’d returned to the shop on his own, leaving Anouska with Lew decorating the trees in Arwydd’s garden with paper lanterns and strings of solar powered lights ready to light up the garden like a fairy grotto when the sun went down.

As he carefully transferred the huge layered cake into a box, he heard the tinkle of the bell announcing a customer. Although he had left the door unlocked, he had put up a large sign indicating that the shop was going to be shut that day.

“Sorry – read the sign, we’re shut today!” Ianto called out from the back kitchen. He had pulled out a drawer searching for the decorated cake slice he kept for special occasions.

“How’s the door?”

At the sound of the unmistakable accent of Jack Harkness, Ianto let go of the drawer and the whole thing fell to the floor scattering various tools and implements.

“It’s still there, just – complete with squeak,” replied Ianto with a chuckle.

“Really?” asked Jack as he leaned against the archway that led into the kitchen. “Hey there, let me give you a hand.”

Jack crouched down and picked up the empty drawer for Ianto to replace the jumble of knives and cake slices.

“How’s Anouska? Is she well?”

“She’s fine. Out at the moment or you’d have heard her by now.”

“That’s good,” responded Jack with a twinkle in his eye. “So, how are you?”

Jack placed a hand on Ianto’s leg to still him, wanting an honest answer.

“Fine … I’m fine.” Ianto said quickly, not wanting to let Jack hear the effect his touch was having on him. The warmth of Jack’s large hand on his thigh was resurrecting thoughts he’d quelled for the past few months.

As if picking up on Ianto’s discomfort, Jack sprang to his feet and looked around the kitchen. He could see stacks of cake tins and mixing bowls on the draining racks, evidence of baking on a large scale.

“So what’s going on here – looks like you’ve been busy.”

“I’m throwing a party... if anyone shows up that is.” Ianto still wasn’t convinced that all of Arwydd’s guests would turn up, despite her assertion that they would.

“Who’s invited?”

“A bunch of villagers.” Ianto sighed. “They like her well enough, but I’m still an outsider as far as most of them are concerned.”

“Tell me something. Why do you give a damn what any narrow-minded villagers think? You’re not scared of them, are you?”

“No. But this isn’t about me, it’s about a special lady and I don’t want her to suffer because of how the locals feel about me.”

“I see. Someone special you say? Should I be jealous?”

“She’s celebrating her ninetieth birthday and she’s my landlady.” Ianto responded before Jack’s exact words sunk in. “And why would you be jealous?”

“I missed out on a kiss if I’m not very much mistaken.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah … unless that was just the whisky and if that’s the case I’ll pretend it never happened.”

“It didn’t happen.”

“Gotcha.” Jack took a deep breath, he’d got his answer and he’d already promised himself that he’d abide with whatever Ianto chose. He turned away as if to leave only to find his hand firmly grasped.

“That doesn’t mean it can’t.” Ianto’s voice was quiet but there was no trace of any uncertainty.

“Is now good for you?” Jack asked hesitantly.

“We’ve got the place to ourselves. No interruptions this time.” Ianto pulled Jack closer to him.

Taking his cue, Jack leaned in, cupping the back of Ianto’s head in one hand as he brought their mouths together. Tentative at first, the kiss developed from a brushing of lips to an exploration of one another’s mouths, slow and purposeful. By the time they broke for air they became aware of how closely their bodies were pressed together.

“Did you say something about no interruptions?” whispered Jack hopefully.

“I meant for a kiss …” Ianto answered. Part of him wanted more, a very insistent part of his anatomy wanting a hell of a lot more, but a quick glance at his watch reminded him of his tight schedule. “Damn, I wish I had more time, but-”

“You’ve got a party to organise?” Jack smiled. It was so Ianto, dutifully taking care of other people.

“Maybe later?” asked Ianto. “You’re not moving on yet are you?”

“If that’s a promise of more to come, I’m not going anywhere, Ianto Jones.” Jack winked as he kissed the tip of Ianto’s nose.

“Oh yes, I’ve got an invite for you, and your pirate hordes.”

Ianto smiled as he opened one of the top cupboards and reached for an empty wine bottle containing a scroll of paper tied with a red ribbon. Arwydd had presented it to him and told him that she’d promised Anouska that she’d invite the pirates and that if he had the opportunity to deliver it he was to do so with her blessing.

Jack grinned as he pulled the cork from the bottle and pulled out the invite.

“So how about it?” Ianto asked quietly. “Coming to the party or not?”

“Oh I don’t think I can – I saw the sign up in the Co-op, there’s still a boycott against immorality and I must respect that.”

“I see that would be a problem,” said Ianto huskily as he slid an arm around Jack’s waist and pulled him close once more. “Then, I’ll have to leave you with this test of your convictions.”

“Perhaps there’s a way the party could come to me.” Jack smirked as an idea came to mind.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter nine**

By the time Ianto returned to the party venue, with a few more chairs, Josephine had set out platters of sandwiches, quiches, vol au vents, sausage rolls and salads on one of the trestle tables, along with bowls of crisps and peanuts, all covered with cling film to keep them fresh until the guests arrived. Arwydd had provided them both with lists detailing everything from the fillings in the sandwiches to the type of pastry she wanted on her sausage rolls – short crust, not flaky, as well as the wines and their vintages. She’d paid them in cash up front, insisting on not owing either of them a single penny. Despite her insistence that it was Ianto who was to be responsible for arranging the party, he felt he was merely following her instructions.

Earlier that day, Ianto had taken Anouska with him and left her there with Lew and Josephine. As he looked around at the smaller tables, dotted on the lawn, each now adorned with neat white tablecloths, he could see his daughter’s handiwork in the floral arrangements on each table: a variety of cups and mugs, each crammed full of a colourful mix of narcissi, tulips, blue forget-me-nots and twigs of hazel catkins.

“Where’s the birthday girl?” asked Ianto as he shut the gate carefully behind him.

“Getting beautiful by all accounts.” Josephine smiled.

“She’s not the only one – that’s a lovely dress,” remarked Ianto. He didn’t compliment Josephine directly, knowing she was still very self-conscious, but with her long, wavy hair flowing loose across her shoulders, she looked beautiful in the pale lilac summer dress that made such a change from the dark colours she usually preferred.

“Thank you, it’s new. I treated myself,” replied Josephine. “I like that waistcoat you’re wearing – very smart.”

Ianto was wearing dark jeans, with a white shirt, its sleeves rolled up, and a black waistcoat, with narrow silver pinstripes that looked as if it belonged to a suit.

“I nearly wore a tie, but it looked too formal – what do you think?”

“No – you’re right, that would have been too much. Almost like wearing a suit – I can’t imagine you in formal wear.”

“There was a time when I used to wear suits to work,” said Ianto without thinking as he placed the final chair in position.

“What? In a chocolate shop?”

“No,” mumbled Ianto, feeling the air leave his lungs and the peripheries of his vision begin to darken. “I think I worked in an office…”

Josephine noticed the way that her friend was clasping hold of the back of the chair as if holding himself up.

“Ianto? Are you alright? Are you having a dizzy spell? Do you need to sit down?”

“Daddy?” came a plaintive cry as Anouska rushed over to her father, as if sensing his distress.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, it’s passing.” Ianto glanced up to reassure his daughter, whose small hand was patting his anxiously.

Taking a few steadying breaths, focusing on breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth, Ianto became aware of birdsong and the scent of the flowers. He smiled to himself as he managed to avoid losing consciousness. He then remembered what had triggered the anxiety attack – it had been the memory of working in an office. It had been in an office where he’d first met Lisa, in London. Although he couldn’t recall exactly what his job had entailed, it didn’t matter anymore – what mattered to him was that if he hadn’t worked there, he wouldn’t have met Lisa and they wouldn’t have had a daughter. The small hand grasping his grounded him in the present and he let the memory go.

“Why don’t you come inside with me?” suggested Josephine, who was pleased that Ianto hadn’t collapsed as she’d seen him do before. “You can help me fill the ice buckets for the wine.”

“That’s a good idea. Off you go, Anouska, I’ll be fine now – I promise.”

“Go with Lew back to the house, to the front room!” Josephine called out to the girl as she reluctantly moved away from her father’s side – there’s something in there for you.”

As the two children ran back into the house, Ianto followed Josephine back into the kitchen. In an ice box there were several bags of ice ready to be emptied into the insulated buckets that Josephine had brought with her from the pub.

“You’re still a bit pale, but not as white as a sheet anymore,” observed Josephine, as she transferred a bottle of wine from the fridge into an ice bucket. She then looked back in the fridge with a frown. “Where’s the cake? I thought that’s what you went back for. I was looking forward to seeing this masterpiece of yours.”

“Ah – there’s been a slight change of plan.” Ianto replied, as he blushed slightly. “A surprise, well I hope it’s a surprise and not a shock.”

“Tell me more.” Josephine nudged Ianto with her elbow, desperate to know what would make her erstwhile protector so bashful.

“Later – where’s my daughter got to? It’s very quiet in there.” Ianto looked around, wondering if Anouska had sneaked out without him noticing. He’d made her promise not to leave the garden or house. He really hoped she’d not heard that the ‘pirates’ had returned and gone to find them.

“In the front room having something to eat. I made a plate of sandwiches for her and Lew, with glasses of squash with fruit and tiny umbrellas in them.”

“Thank you, but you needn’t have-”

“Oh yes I did – otherwise the party food would have been sampled ahead of time!”

“I see.” Ianto rolled his eyes envisaging half eaten sandwiches and scattered crumbs on the tables.

“So, what’s going on and does it have anything to do with what’s going on at the bottom of the garden?” whispered Josephine as she pointed out of the kitchen window.

Arwydd’s garden backed onto a steep footpath that made its way down the side of the valley to the canal. There was a secretive bustle of activity beyond the back gate, accompanied by the twinkling of lights in the ancient apple tree that was about to burst into blossom.

“Would you believe me if I said they were fairies?” asked Ianto, a smile on his lips.

“Hmm… fairies in hoodies?” Josephine squinted as she tried to focus on the figures that scuttled away down towards the river.

“I have it on very good authority that they’re not bad fairies.” Ianto winked. “But don’t tell anyone.”

****************

Ianto was relieved that all of Arwydd’s guests turned up, although he was disappointed that she’d not relented in her decision not to invite her daughter Carys. She had been quite adamant about it, even though it meant that Lew had to go home as soon as the party started. He’d been allowed to visit her as it was her birthday, delivering a card and a gift, the sketch he’d made of her when they were in the chocolate shop together. However, as his grandmother had insisted on keeping her party a secret, Lew had reluctantly returned to his mother’s house when the first guests started to arrive, having been sworn to secrecy.

By the time the sun finally set and the stars started to sparkle in the indigo sky, most of the food had been eaten and the guests were sitting around the tables sipping wine and chatting amongst themselves. As it had got chillier Josephine had surreptitiously draped a shawl around Arwydd’s shoulders whilst she sat quietly watching the interactions of the villagers she called her friends. Along with a large number of the more senior citizens, including the elderly man with his corgi who was sitting very close to the lady he’d admired at a distance for so long, there were some younger people from the community – the hairdresser and her partner, the newsagent and his wife, the two women who worked in the Co-op and the postman. It was no coincidence that the majority of Arwydd’s guests had also become regular customers of both Ianto and Josephine since the beginning of the year.

“Where’s that cake of mine?” Arwydd called out to Ianto as he collected empty plates from the tables. “I thought we had a deal? I paid for the best and I expect it.”

“Yes, we did agree that I’d provide a cake. However, I thought you might like to go down to the canal for dessert.”

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been down that path – as well you know,” Arwydd scowled at Ianto. She was starting to regret reminiscing with him about the time she used to walk along the footpath alongside the canal at night. “You may not have been here long, but trust me, I’m not as nimble as I used to be.”

“You don’t need to be,” replied Ianto mischievously.

“What’s going on?”

Ianto whistled as a signal and suddenly the whole footpath lit up with trails of lights and lanterns. The gate squealed open and in stepped Benton and Jack, carrying a sturdy wooden chair garlanded with spring flowers and tendrils of periwinkle, its glossy green leaves and purple flowers setting off the pale yellow narcissi. Soft cushions were strapped to the seat and the back, affording some comfort.

“Your carriage awaits, ma’am.” Jack graced Arwydd with a flirtatious smile.

“Ah, you must be the pirate Captain.”

Arwydd fixed Jack with her beady eyes, scrutinising him with great care. She took in his self-assured stance, the greatcoat that appeared older than he did. Then she looked into his eyes and tilted her head to one side. There was something there, beneath the surface that made the hair at the back of her neck stand on end, she sensed secrets and grief. He was undoubtedly handsome and he was evidently an incorrigible flirt, but she’d spotted the way he could hardly take his eyes off Ianto.

“Hmm… I think I understand now.”

“Understand what, ma’am?” Jack asked as he held out a hand to help her transfer herself from one seat to another.

“I think you know.” Arwydd squeezed his hand tightly as she looked him directly in the eye. “You may seem vain and outrageous, but there’s much more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there?”

Jack paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he wondered if she had any idea just how much he was actually hiding.

“Just don’t let him down. Either be there for him or don’t. That’s all I ask of you,” whispered Arwydd before turning to Benton who had grabbed hold of the right-hand side of the chair. “And you must be Captain Benton, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

The smile slipped from Jack’s face as he took on board the older lady’s words. She was entrusting him with Ianto’s future, laying on him the burden of doing the right thing. The trouble was that he wasn’t sure what that was.

“The party will be continuing down by the canal!” announced Ianto, oblivious to the whispered conversation. “Cake, desserts, chocolate, coffee and liqueurs.”

“And music!” added Jack cheerfully.

As the procession drew closer to the canal bank they could hear music coming from one of the boats, which was also decked out with flowers and lights. Tables and chairs had been set up under the trees that arched over the waterway. Sitting on the edges of the boats, looking nervous and excited were a half a dozen boys and as many girls. A young woman waved to the party as they made their way towards them.

“That’s Martha – another friend of ours,” explained Jack. “We need an adult female with us for mixed groups. She’s also a doctor, which comes in useful.”

“I hope this isn’t a plot of my daughter’s to have me carted off to the nursing home,” grumbled Arwydd.

“Perhaps if you’d invited her you wouldn’t be worrying about that,” suggested Ianto as he caught up with Benton and Jack.

He’d been following them, gallantly helping one of the older ladies down the steep path. He frowned as he looked at Martha, she looked familiar. He wondered if perhaps he'd seen her in passing at one of the hospitals he’d been in following the accident.

“Pshaw!” Arwydd hissed. “I’m only sorry that my grandson isn’t here to share this with me.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Ianto pointed along the towpath and out of the darkness came a weaving headlight, attached to a rickety bicycle ridden by a young boy.

“Lew?” Arwydd called out. “What are you doing here?”

“I sneaked out and went to the house, but no one was there – then I saw Anouska and she said the pirates had kidnapped you.”

“Ianto! I’m sorry – I told him to go home, but-” Josephine looked flustered as she skittered to the bottom of the path, clutching Anouska’s hand.

“Too late now, I suppose, but I’ll need to get him straight home.” Ianto sighed. “His mother will be worried.”

“Not yet – you’ve only just got here,” Arwydd protested. “He can come back to my house with me later. Now where’s that cake?”

“I’ll get it,” said Josephine before Ianto had the chance to move. “Why don’t you go and dance, Ianto?”

“Who with?” asked Ianto confused, until he turned around to see Jack standing there, his hand held out, patiently waiting.

“May I?” Jack smiled shyly, an uncommon but not unattractive look on him.

********************


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter ten**

Little did Ianto know that Lew’s mother had bypassed worried and headed straight for livid. She’d followed Lew from the house, convinced that he was up to something that she’d have to punish him for. She didn’t approve of his friendship with the daughter of Jones, the girl was a force of nature, untamed and wild.

When she got to her mother’s house, she’d been shocked at the state of the garden and then she heard the sounds of laughter from the footpath. Running down the footpath she was startled by the sights she’d witnessed. Lew was there, as she suspected, and so was her mother, both eating slices of what looked like chocolate cake. She was horrified to see that the boat people were at the centre of the trouble. Loud music was emanating from speakers set on the top of one of the boats. She could see teenagers wearing sweatshirts and jeans. There were people drinking and dancing, holding each other close, swaying in time to the music. She blinked and looked twice, she couldn’t believe her eyes- Jones was dancing with another man – it looked like the American she’d seen the last time the boats had come to town.

Carys was convinced that laws were being broken. Drunken debauchery – disturbance of the peace, or something along those lines. She debated with herself whether to grab her son first or not. However, she chose not to give them any warning and hurried back to see Mr Reynolds. If anyone could put a stop to goings on she was witnessing, he could.

********************

The hairdresser’s partner had given up alcohol for Lent, so he offered to fetch his car to give some of the older partygoers a lift home. There was a small layby just before the narrow bridge that crossed the canal not far from where the party was taking place. Despite not wanting a fuss, Arywdd was grateful, it had been a tiring night and she wanted to get back to her home. As Ianto helped her into car, she leaned over and asked him if he thought her guests had enjoyed themselves.

“I’m sure they all had a wonderful time. How are you?”

“I’m tired. Thank you. This was…”

“Do you want me to come back with you?” Ianto asked earnestly, concerned about his friend.

“Oh, for God’s sake, don’t fuss. You’ll ruin a perfectly decadent evening.” Arwydd squeezed Ianto’s hand and gave him a fond look. “I’m not partial to big, sloppy good-byes.”

“If you insist, but I’ll be over in the morning to sort out the dishes and tidy the garden.”

“Don’t worry about all that.” Arwydd shook her head and smiled. “You know what? I think I’ll sleep in my chair tonight. Goodnight, Ianto and thank you, again, for everything.”

“Goodnight,” responded Ianto, as he shut the car door. He shuddered as if a cold gust of wind had sprung up, although the air was still.

“Will she be OK?” asked Jack from behind him.

“I don’t know,” replied Ianto, although he realised that his dear friend had been trying to tell him something. “But she won’t thank me for worrying about her.”

“Not at all.” Jack fell into step with Ianto as they wandered back towards the boats.

“Now what was that you said about showing me your etchings?” asked Ianto cheekily. “Now’s as good a time as any.”

“Oh yes, I think they’re in my cabin.” Jack winked lewdly as he held out his hand and grasped hold of Ianto as he led him over to the front boat, the one in darkness. “Are you sure about this?”

“If Arwydd has taught me one thing it’s not having any regrets. You’ll be gone again soon and ...” Ianto trailed off, not wanting to say out loud just how much he’d miss Jack when he left, after all they’d not known each other that long.

“I try to avoid having regrets,” said Jack, trying very hard not to focus on all the regrets he had – for things both done and things not done. He stepped onto the back of the darkened boat and led the way inside. “My cabin is at the front – this way.”

“So, etchings then? Really?”

Jack held open the door to his cabin and ushered Ianto into his room. He slid the bolt shut as they ducked their heads.

“No. I lied. There are no etchings. But it’s quieter here – more private. Didn’t take you for a ‘quickie in the bushes’ kinda guy.”

“My daughter’s out there!” Ianto declared in mock outrage.

“She’s safe on the other boat with Martha and your friend Josephine – fast asleep.”

“She’s exhausted – too much excitement.”

“How about you?” Jack asked, pressing a kiss to Ianto’s wine-flavoured lips.

“Not that tired.” Ianto smiled as he felt Jack’s arms slide around his waist.

“Good.”

*******************

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Carys was leaving Mr Reynolds’ house wondering what Gethin had been doing there. She hadn’t been surprised when he asked if his wife had been at the party with Jones, she remembered his accusations concerning adultery. However, she hadn’t expected the reaction she’d got when she’d tried to explain that she really doubted that anything was going on between the two, especially after seeing the young Welshman dancing with the American. It occurred to her that Gethin was even more incensed than he would have been if she had confirmed his suspicions about Josephine being with Mr Jones.

*****************

If only Carys knew that the dancing was merely a prelude to the closeness shared between the two men.

Ianto was dozing on Jack’s chest, listening to the gentle sounds of water slapping the sides of the boat. They’d only got partially undressed, fumbling about in the dark like a pair of teenagers. Ianto had been worried about making too much noise, even though Jack had reassured him that the door to his cabin was bolted from the inside and that no one would disturb them. The older man had been gentle with him, careful to the point of frustration, as if afraid of scaring him off. It had all seemed strangely familiar, the sensation of Jack’s large hand encompassing both men as he expertly brought them off, his mouth moving across Ianto’s to swallow the groan as he came. Ianto shook his head as he wondered why none of this seemed new to him.

“What’s wrong?” asked Jack anxiously.

“Nothing at all. In fact nothing’s felt so right for a very long time.”

Jack heard the sadness in Ianto’s voice and was concerned.

“There’s something worrying you– what is it?”

“Do you do this all the time?” asked Ianto, leaning up on an elbow to look Jack in the eye. “Form relationships wherever you go?”

Jack closed his eyes and tried not to think too hard about his life – always moving on, never settling down.

“I guess so,” admitted Jack quietly.

“Don’t you ever want to settle down?”

“Like you?” Jack teased. “How many different towns did you say you’d lived in before this one?”

“Well, maybe this time I’ll get it right.”

“What does that mean?”

“Maybe I’ll stay – I’ve finally made some good friends here. Don’t you ever think about belonging somewhere?”

“The price is too high.” Jack sighed as he ran his fingers through Ianto’s dishevelled curls. He liked the way that Ianto had let his hair grow longer. “You end up caring about what people expect of you.”

“Is that so terrible?” asked Ianto quietly. “Having people expect something of you?”

Jack didn’t dare put his thoughts on that into words, so he just hugged Ianto tight and kissed the top of his head.

It was in the hushed silence that both men suddenly became aware of a change in the backdrop of sounds outside – startled calls that became loud shouts of alarm. Jack tugged the curtains back to see what was going on, his eyes widening as he saw the glow of flames reflecting in the not so calm waters of the river.

Ianto looked over Jack’s shoulder and realising that the source of conflagration had to be the other boat – the one reserved for Martha and the girls, the one on which his daughter was sleeping – he pulled his jeans up rapidly, unbolted the door and ran from the cabin.

Jack rushed after Ianto, just in time to see him dive into the murky waters of the canal and then swim in the direction of the splashing in the water just beyond the burning boat. He dived in after Ianto and swam out to help.

He was vaguely aware of people shouting from the waterside, screams for help and cries for buckets to throw water onto the flames. Then he heard Benton’s voice, loud and authoritative, commanding the children to move back and take shelter under the trees, ordering them to recall what to do in the fire drills they’d practised. He wondered how long it would take for the fire brigade to reach them – the village was remote and not on any major road.

Ahead of him he could see Ianto towing a young child to safety – he thought it was Anouska until he realised the girl wasn’t as young as Ianto’s daughter. Looking around desperately he then saw, on the towpath, Anouska clutching Josephine’s hand and screaming out to her father, tears rolling down her face as she cried out again and again, wanting Ianto to see she was there.

Jack swam over to where Ianto was treading water and helped him reach the side. As they reached the bank, the girl they’d rescued was smothered in blankets by Martha who was there waiting to check that she was uninjured. Ianto slid in the mud as he reached out to grab hold of Anouska, crushing her into his arms as he fell to his knees in exhaustion.

“You’re hurting me, daddy,” Anouska whimpered, scared by the way her father was fiercely hugging her.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart – I was just frightened that you were in the boat.”

“We were…but we jumped in the water,” replied Anouska, hiccuping as she sobbed into her father’s chest.

“Martha – are they all out?” Jack asked quickly, scanning the scattered groups of children, trying to do a head count.

“I think so, Jack – it’s hard to tell. It’s chaos over there.” Martha pointed to the trees where Benton was trying to gather the young kids in one place so he could check off their names.

“What do you mean, you think so? You mean there could still be kids on there?” demanded Jack. “What about the boy? Arwydd’s grandson? Where is he?”

“I don’t know – I didn’t see him. Oh God, Jack –”

Before Martha could say another word, Jack had dived back into the water and was clambering over the edge of the burning boat, intent on searching it for anyone still trapped on board.

“Jack!” yelled Ianto, suddenly aware of what Jack was attempting to do. He pushed Anouska towards Martha as he dashed back to the edge of the canal.

“Oh no you don’t, mister – you stay here with your daughter!” growled Martha, grabbing hold of Ianto’s arm preventing him from diving back into the water.

“But Jack needs help!” Ianto protested.

“He knows what he’s doing,” insisted Martha, hoping that her words were true. “You need to take Anouska home– you’re both soaking wet and freezing cold. She’ll go into shock if you don’t get somewhere her warm and dry!”

Martha knew it was a dirty trick, making Ianto feel guilty about neglecting his daughter, but she didn’t want him witnessing what would happen if Jack was hurt, or worse.

“But-”

“Just go! Now! Trust me, Jack will be OK.” Martha crossed her fingers behind her back, hoping Ianto wouldn’t see.

Reluctantly, Ianto gathered Anouska up into his arms and carried her away from the scene. It was just as he crossed over the small stone bridge that he heard the explosion and turned to see the fireball that accompanied the blast. The canisters of propane they had on board for cooking must have exploded.

“Daddy? What’s happened? What went bang?”

“It’s … the boat … it’s …” Ianto couldn’t say anything else, the tears were blurring his vision. If Jack had been inside he wouldn’t have stood a chance.

Holding Anouska in such a way that she couldn’t see what was happening, Ianto stared at the choppy surface of the water, desperately seeking the sight of a dark haired head bobbing above the ripples, but there was nothing. Then he watched on in horror as Benton hauled out what must have been Jack’s body, his shirt was bloodstained and there was no sign of movement.

“Daddy? Please – I’m scared.”

Ianto stared at the scene, hearing nothing but the sounds of sirens getting louder as the fire engines pulled up. His vision blurred further, until all he could see were flashing blue lights interspersed with red and orange flames, sparkling in the water of the river like a macabre firework display.

“Hey there, let’s get the two of you out of here.” Josephine’s voice startled him as she steered him gently away from the scene and towards the footpath that led back to the village. “Come on, Ianto, there’s nothing you can do here.”

*********************


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter eleven**

Fortunately for him, Lew hadn’t been on the boat when the fire had broken out, he’d been on his way back up to his grandmother’s house when he’d bumped into his mother. Together, in silence, they’d made their way back up the footpath and entered the garden through the back gate. In the kitchen there were neatly stacked piles of plates waiting to be washed up, along with two trays full of dirty wine glasses. Lew automatically started to fill a bowl with hot soapy water, intent on cleaning up the mess left behind.

“Leave those for now. We don’t want to wake up your grandmother do we?” Carys turned the taps off and rested a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“I suppose not. She said she was going to sleep in her armchair.”

“Let’s check on her then – make sure she’s got a blanket.” Carys took Lew’s hand as they opened the door to the front room.

Arwydd was in her large, overstuffed armchair. There was no blanket covering her. However, when Carys took the crocheted blanket from the back of the sofa and began to tuck it around her mother, she realised with a sinking heart, that none was needed. Her mother would not be feeling the cold ever again. Sometime after she’d got back to her house, Arwydd had died peacefully in her sleep. In her own home, just as she’d always planned.

Carys clutched her son tight to her chest as she knelt on the worn rug. Both of them wept for their loss. But in her death, Arwydd had succeeded in bringing them together in a way she’d never managed in her lifetime. After Lew’s father had died in a tragic accident, Carys had become so obsessed with keeping those she loved safe that she had forgotten how to let them be happy. Her mother had been happy on her last birthday, she’d seen her laughing and smiling as she’d indulged in all those things that Carys would have forbade her.

Carys kissed the top of Lew’s head and held him close. She had one more chance to get it right and she wasn’t going to waste it.

*****************

Across town, John Reynolds was waiting to hear back from the emergency services. He’d called to make a complaint and asked for the police to investigate a disturbance of the peace. They had called back half an hour later to brief him on the status of the fire and subsequent explosion that had engulfed one of the boats. Reynolds assumed that it had been an act of vandalism by the young hooligans themselves and was feeling justified in his warnings to the community.

He was startled by the sound of someone hammering frantically at his front door and frowned as he made his way to the door. He’d been half expecting a constable to visit at some point to update him on the situation, but thought they would be more circumspect. However, it wasn’t the police at the door, but the erstwhile pub landlord, Gethin.

Reynolds hadn’t expected to see him again, not after he’d made it clear to him that he would not vouch for him in an appeal to the brewery about the pub licence. Despite his personal beliefs about the sanctity of marriage, Reynolds had seen for himself the evidence of physical abuse and that was unforgivable. Josephine was a good woman and had made an excellent contribution to the town since her husband had left. There had been a time when Reynolds had relied on Gethin to support him and the parish council, and in turn he would have stood by the pub landlord. But not any longer.

Gethin pushed past Reynolds into the hallway of the large house, his eyes wild and haunted.

“The fire, Mr Reynolds – I know it was the right thing to do, but I can’t get rid of the faces and the screams.”

“The fire? But, that was those ungodly louts…”

“No. No… it was me, Mr Reynolds,” stated Gethin, like a child trying to impress an adult.

“What?”

“You told me. Remember? You said ‘something has to be done, Gethin’. You did, didn’t you?” Gethin babbled eagerly.

“But people could have died – there were children on those boats!” Reynolds was appalled. “You want their blood on your hands?”

“On... on my hands? Should I go to the church and ask the priest for forgiveness?”

“Listen to me, Gethin. Listen very carefully.” Reynolds placed his hands on Gethin’s shoulders making sure he had his full attention. “You must leave this town at once and never return. You have put me in a very difficult situation now – I should report you to the police. It's my civic duty…”

“But what about the pub? My wife? I want them both back. I want you to help me, you said -”

Reynolds shook his head. He had suggested that Gethin try to talk to Josephine, to see if she could find it in her heart to forgive him. He wished he’d never said any such thing. But he’d been caught off guard by the man when he’d turned up on his doorstep with tales of missing memories and regrets. As a consequence, he’d given the foolish man false hope and, for all he knew, his careless words could have resulted in tragedy.

“What you have done puts you beyond anyone’s help. Just go.”

************************

By morning of the following day, it wasn’t only Gethin who’d left the town, never to be seen again. The funeral directors had been to collect Arwydd’s body from her house. Down on the canal, all that was left was the burnt out remains of the narrowboat, police incident tape having replaced the bunting and flowers.

In the space of twenty-four hours, Ianto had lost two of his closest friends on one of the happiest nights he could remember, that had become one of the worst, and he was alone once again.

************************

“He didn’t see… you know …”

“What? You coming back to life?” asked Martha, focusing on the narrow road. “No. Do you want memories of that breaking through the retcon or what?”

“No … yes … I don’t know.”

Jack shrugged dejectedly. He’d half hoped that Ianto would have been here when he’d gasped back to life. But he should have known better. If he’d seen Jack resuscitate and heal then he would probably have remembered everything else, including Torchwood. Then they would have had to start all over again, from the beginning.

“Owen’s going to kill you. Why couldn’t you have just left him alone? I knew this was a bad idea, I don’t know why I agreed to it.”

“I needed to see how he was doing. I missed him...”

Martha frowned. It seemed that despite all the advice from those who cared about him, Jack remained obsessed with Ianto and what could have been. That’s why the team had begged her to follow him this time – they had taken it in turns to accompany Jack on his monitoring visits, testing to see if the retcon was holding, especially important after the outcome of Suzie’s repeated retconning of people had come to light. Martha hadn’t been told all the facts – deliberately – so that she could act as a more impartial observer.

“Oh, Jack. What are we going to do with you?” Martha rested her hand on his arm.

Jack curled up on the passenger seat of the Range Rover and turned his back on his friend, knowing what she was going to say next.

“You can’t see him ever again. You know that don’t you?”

************************

“What the fuck did you think you were doing?” Owen was in Jack’s face the moment he walked through the cog door and into the Hub. “I knew it wasn’t a good idea. It’s been less than a year since you last checked in on him.”

“I had to see him again – make sure he was alright.” Jack stuck his chin out defiantly, even though he knew it had no effect on Owen Harper.

“Bollocks!” Owen retorted angrily, barely restraining himself from grabbing hold of Jack by the lapels of his oversized coat. “You didn’t tell us about the visit in December – if those UNIT blokes hadn’t mentioned you were hanging out with an ex-colleague of theirs up in North Wales, we’d never have known!”

It was an arrangement whereby a couple of UNIT officers were seconded to Torchwood to improve inter agency relations, however, as it always seemed to happen when Jack was ‘out of town’, the main cause of friction was never there when the UNIT people helped out.

“Hi there, Martha.” Gwen brushed past the two men to greet Jack’s friend. “Ignore Owen he’s just feeling homicidal. How’s Anouska, then? She must be seven now.”

“You were right, Gwen, she’s absolutely adorable,” replied Martha with a smile and then waved at Tosh.

Without another word spoken the three women moved to the side-lines, waiting for Owen and Jack to have their usual row. It happened every time.

“Are you absolutely sure he doesn’t remember what really happened?” Owen demanded, prodding his finger into Jack’s chest.

“Yes, dammit! How many times do I have to tell you?” Jack yelled back at the medic. “He is still convinced that he was in a car accident in which his girlfriend died. He still believes that he suffered amnesia and that their daughter was being cared for by her aunt until he got out of hospital.”

“Explain that to me,” asked Martha. “Come on, I know about Canary Wharf and the Cybermen, I’ve read what really happened to Ianto’s girlfriend, but there was nothing in the records about a little girl. From what I saw, Jack’s right – I chatted to his friend Josephine and she told be that Ianto didn’t remember anything about Anouska’s early life with him and Lisa. He told Josephine that the first memory he has of her is when Lisa’s sister brought her to visit him in hospital.”

“It was his own cover story – the car crash - Ianto had already done all the work for us. He called Lisa’s sister to tell her that Lisa had lost her life in the attack on Canary Wharf and that he was also injured,” explained Tosh carefully. “He asked her to look after Anouska – but to tell her it had been a car accident. He’d prepared new identities for himself and Lisa if she recovered. He assumed that if he failed, his daughter would then be better off staying with her aunt.”

“Oh my God,” said Martha. “That must have been an awful shock for the poor little girl.”

“She was very young at the time, barely eighteen months old and her aunt took care of her during the day when her parents were at work.”

“I’m surprised they were happy to let her return to Ianto, especially if he’d lost his memories.”

“Yeah – that could have gone badly,” sighed Jack. “Back then, I really thought they were going to fight to keep Anouska – she’d been with them since Canary Wharf.”

“You did the right thing Jack,” Gwen spoke up. “That poor mite had lost one parent. It was only right she got to keep her father.”

“It was all down to Tosh, really,” Owen pointed out. “If she hadn’t stumbled across the money trail and found that Ianto was paying Lisa’s sister to look after the kid, we’d never have found out she existed.”

“I was impressed,” Tosh admitted. “A perfect cover up, nothing to link the child to him. He’d made sure she’d be protected and cared for in case he failed.”

“And that’s why he fought so hard to get Lisa cured,” recalled Jack. “She wasn’t just his girlfriend. She was the mother of his child.”

The moment Jack had discovered the truth he’d been devastated. He’d come so close to executing Ianto – not just out of respect for Torchwood’s rules, but also because he’d been personally betrayed. He’d formed a close friendship with the man and had trusted him. He’d thrown Ianto in a cell, awaiting his punishment, while he’d got the team to track down what else he’d been up to behind their backs. He wasn’t going to put a bullet through his skull until he’d made sure he didn’t need to interrogate him. But as soon as Jack found out about the child he couldn’t go through with shooting Ianto.

“But you do know you can’t see him again, don’t you?” Owen said quietly. “You’ve been doing this every year since you let him go. Then something happens and we have to retcon him again. Then he has to start all over in a new town. I can’t retcon him anymore, Jack. It’s already taken a toll on his health – I’ve been monitoring him, the black-outs haven’t got any less frequent.”

“What about Anouska – is the retcon affecting her as well?” asked Martha.

Owen looked ashamed and nodded.

“Yeah, but not as bad. First time I had to give it to her was when she saw that bloody pterodactyl.”

“What?” exclaimed Martha.

“I said that the Beacons was too bloody close to Cardiff – that mission with the cannibals? Someone decided that as we were all out of town, the pterodactyl could be let out to feed itself for the weekend – bloody thing followed the SUV and then managed to home in on the one chocolatier in the whole of the Brecon Beacons!”

“Oh – so that’s why she has an invisible pet that’s called Myfanwy is it?” asked Martha, incredulously.

“It’s not easy thinking up cover stories for a young kid you know – lucky they’re quite gullible at that age.”

“But, you can’t keep doing that,” protested Martha. “There’s no way of knowing how repeated doses of retcon will affect her development.”

“I know. But you did make sure they were dosed, didn’t you?” Owen frowned as he gave Martha a stern look.

Martha shrugged.

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t retcon them?” Owen rolled his eyes. She was meant to retcon all memories of Jack in case he did something stupid. The last time it had been his turn after Jack threw himself in front of a bus to save Anouska from being run over.

“I couldn’t,” Martha admitted tearfully. “It didn’t seem fair. Owen, if you’d have seen them, you couldn’t have done it either. I didn’t get the chance, their friend took them away from the scene and then I had to drive Jack back here. Anyway, if they never see any of you again, it doesn’t matter does it?”

“So, you chose to leave a little girl and her father traumatised and heartbroken instead?” Owen asked sarcastically, having no qualms about making Martha feel bad.

“Hold on there, Owen.” Jack stepped in and taking Martha’s face in his hands he looked at her with something akin to hope. “Tell me, did he actually see my dead body? Up close?”

“No. I kept him away, guilted him into taking Anouska home – told him she was going into shock. He was on his way back up the path when the boat exploded. He might have seen Benton pull you out of the water, but I made sure his friend Josephine went after him and took him away before he saw anything else.”

Jack smiled and kissed Martha on the forehead. He had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is confusing ... it made sense to me when I wrote it!


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter twelve**

Ianto didn’t go to Arwydd’s funeral. But he’d watched the burial from a distance at the cemetery. He wondered if Jack would have a funeral. There was no way he could get in touch with anyone to find out. Once the boats had gone, he realised he had no contact number, no address, nothing. It was as if Jack had never existed.

Since the night of the fire Ianto hadn’t bothered re-opening the shop. When he’d got back there with Anouska they’d found the front window smashed in and the display wrecked. Homophobic insults had been smeared over the walls, written with shards of broken chocolate. Josephine had taken one glance and identified the culprit instantly, but she had made Ianto and his daughter her priority, taking them with her to stay the night in one of the guestrooms at the pub. It had been in the morning that they’d found out about Arwydd.

Ianto had barely spoken to anyone since that night. He’d shut the shop, put boards up over the broken window and kept to himself. He fixed meals for Anouska, but ate very little himself having lost his appetite since the events of that fateful night.

************************

Josephine bumped into Ianto as she was on her way to reopen the pub in time for the wake after the funeral.

“Will you be joining us?” she asked. “Arwydd would have understood your absence at the church, but she would have insisted you drink to her memory.”

“No, I can’t.” Ianto shook his head and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I’ve got things to do.”

“Such as?” demanded Josephine. “What’s going on with you? She treated you like a son, surely you can make the effort to –”

“I’m packing. We’re leaving.”

“Is it because of Arwydd?” Josephine sighed. “That wasn’t your fault. Nobody’s blaming you.”

“It’s time, that’s all.” Ianto shrugged. “This is who I am.”

“The graffiti then? You know that not everyone thinks like that?”

“I don’t belong here.”

“Don’t you believe anything you told me?” pleaded Josephine.

“That was different. You… it’s not the same …” Ianto rubbed his face wearily and then turned to go. “I have to pack now.”

Josephine grabbed hold of his hand and tried one more time to get through to him.

“If you leave, everything will go back to the way it always was.”

“It _**is**_ the way it always was,” said Ianto with despair.

“Not for me, it isn’t.”

“I’m glad for that.” Ianto squeezed Josephine’s hand, genuinely pleased for her. “But we have to go. I imagine Carys will want to sell both the shop and the flat, so we may as well leave before we’re evicted.”

“You don’t know that for certain.”

“She never approved of us. I think she’ll be pleased to see me go.”

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Ianto pulled Josephine into a gentle hug and kissed her on the cheek before turning back to the boarded-up shop.

************************

Once he’d packed his scant personal possessions, Ianto shut himself away in his room to concentrate on packing their clothes into the cases he’d brought with him that lonely night so many months ago. He decided that he would leave the kitchen as it was, all they really needed was clothing, toiletries and the soapstone box that held Lisa’s ashes. Everything else could stay behind. With one last look at the room that had been his sanctuary and had sheltered Josephine when she’d ran away from her husband, Ianto zipped up the cases, fastened the straps on the back pack and then hauled them onto the landing.

He could see that Anouska was still crouching down in the corner of her room where she had taken up camp all afternoon, refusing to help Ianto pack. However, as soon as he started to take her dinosaur books off the mantlepiece, Anouska leapt to her feet and snatched them back from him angrily.

“Come on, or do you want to leave them behind?” asked Ianto pointing at the books that had been thrown onto the small bed.

“Myfanwy says she hates this!” screamed Anouska.

“Then she can stay behind,” snapped Ianto.

“I hate you!” Anouska yelled angrily.

“You’re entitled,” said Ianto with feeling. “Now pick up those books so I can pack them.”

“I won’t. I’m not going. I’m going to stay here with Myfanwy.” Anouska sat down on her bed, holding the books tightly in her lap.

“Get up.”

“I can’t. My leg hurts,” said Anouska petulantly.

“Please stop that. Get up – we’re going.”

“No.”

“Come on, we’re going.”

“You’re hurting me!” yelled Anouska as Ianto clumsily grabbed hold of her by the elbow.

Ianto had flung the heavy rucksack over one shoulder and then tucked one case under an arm as he tried to lift the other and grab hold of Anouska at the same time.

“Well stop being so difficult!”

“Let me go! It’s not fair!” Anouska struggled and bit into Ianto’s hand to make him let go of her.

“Stop it!” he yelped, taken aback at Anouska sinking her teeth into the heel of his hand.

“I’m not going!” Anouska pulled at the strap of the rucksack causing it to overbalance and fall from Ianto’s shoulder.

Ianto and Anouska both watched on in horror as the rucksack hurtled down the narrow stairs, its straps coming loose. Then the box containing Lisa’s ashes bounced out onto the wooden stairs and fell open, spilling its contents onto the polished wood.

Anouska dashed down the stairs first, tears running down her cheeks as she cried out.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, daddy.”

Ianto joined her as she tried to brush the gritty, grey powder into a pile. He gently took her hand away and then scooped the remains back into the box.

“Don’t worry, daddy. The next time will be better, won’t it?”

Ianto merely nodded, unable to speak.

“I’m ready to go now.” Anouska said between sobs as Ianto held her close.

It was in that moment, when they were both too shocked to speak, that they heard the sounds of people in the kitchen. There was a low buzz of talking. Josephine’s voice could be clearly heard issuing instructions. Ianto carefully placed the box he was clutching onto the nearest table and then took hold of Anouska’s hand before walking through the shop and into the kitchen.

“You need to chop those almonds more finely… stir it carefully … don’t let a single drop of water anywhere near that pan… roll those gently…”

“Josephine? What’s going on?”

“There you are – do you want to make sure we’re doing this right? I think we have the right consistency for the moulds.”

The kitchen table was covered with trays of truffles and other simple sweetmeats cooling on racks.

Ianto was shocked to see Carys and her son, both wearing aprons, carefully pouring melted chocolate into the rabbit shaped moulds. Lew smiled shyly at Anouska and Carys gave Ianto an apologetic look.

The other people in the kitchen, villagers that Ianto had come to know as regular customers, looked up from their endeavours as if seeking approval. He felt ashamed of himself, he’d given up on them, but they’d stood by him.

************************

When summer came, a new breeze from the south blew soft and warm.

Anouska was watering the sunflowers she was growing in the pots outside the shop door, when she suddenly squealed in delight.

A red car, with a dragon sticker in the windscreen had pulled up on the kerbside and two people had got out. A dark haired woman and the man she’d thought of as a pirate.

“Daddy, daddy – he’s back!”

“Who is?” Ianto stepped outside into the sunshine and blinked twice to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “Jack? Is it really you?”

“How’s the squeak?” Jack experimentally opened the door once or twice, grimacing as it groaned on its hinges.

“I thought you were dead,” Ianto said softly, not wanting Anouska to hear.

“I’m sorry,” mouthed Jack.

“Are you going to introduce me to your friend?” Ianto spoke out loud as he turned to look at the woman Jack had brought with him.

“Oh yes, this is Gwen– meet Ianto Jones.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Gwen shook hands with Ianto, pleased to see no sign of recognition in his eyes. He looked well, wearing a white cotton shirt, its sleeves rolled up, and dark blue jeans, such a change from the suits she had seen him wearing when they’d first met.

“So, were you just stopping by to let me know you were still alive?” Ianto asked nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t really bothered.

Jack frowned. Then he saw the way Ianto was looking at Gwen with suspicion.

“Gwen’s a friend,” Jack said slowly, emphasising the words. “She agreed to give me a lift.”

“Why don’t you both come inside? I’ll get you a drink – maybe a piece of cake to go with it.”

Ianto wanted to speak to Jack alone. But he wasn’t sure what to say. As a distraction from the tumultuous thoughts that were giving him a headache, he concentrated on producing beverages and cutting thick slices of chocolate cake.

“Here you go – mint chocolate with whipped cream for Gwen and a mocha for the Captain.”

“Ooh – that’s delicious that is,” Gwen said as she took a sip of the sweet, dark chocolate, mint-flavoured drink through the whipped cream. “I think that’s my favourite – how did you know?”

Ianto smiled and looked away, bashful at receiving praise from a stranger.

“Excellent – my favourite,” said Jack as he licked chocolaty foam from his upper lip.

“That’s your favourite?” Ianto frowned. He recalled trying out at least a dozen different chocolates on Jack, convinced each time that he’d correctly identified the captain’s favourite.

“Well, to be honest, anything coffee flavoured that you produced would be on the list,” replied Jack with a grin.

“So, how’s Myfanwy?” Jack asked Anouska who was watching his every move with suspicion from her stair.

“She flew away – her wing got better,” said Anouska, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Then she got up and walked across to Gwen purposefully. “Would you like to see my dinosaur books?”

“I’d love to.” Gwen took Anouska’s hand and turned back to wink at Jack before being led up the stairs and out of sight.

As soon as they were alone, Jack reached across the table and took Ianto’s hand in both of his, grateful that he didn’t pull away.

“Ianto – how are you?”

“All the better for seeing you again.” Ianto said slowly. “What happened? Where did you go?”

“I was knocked out, but I came around later. We had to get the kids sorted out. I’m so sorry I couldn’t hang around to let you know what had happened,” explained Jack with complete honesty. “Then I had to get back to work.”

“I see. So this is just a passing visit. When are you going back?” Ianto glanced at the shiny red vehicle outside his shop.

“I came back for you.” Jack gently rubbed his thumb across Ianto’s knuckles.

“What does that mean?” Ianto was confused.

Jack pointed at the bags that were sitting by the door. He’d brought them in while Ianto was busy in the kitchen fetching the cake.

“I’d like to stay a while, if that’s OK with you? Try that settling down concept.”

“How long’s ‘a while’?” Ianto asked quietly, not daring to hope it would be longer than a weekend at most.

“As long as you’ll have me,” replied Jack, as he lifted Ianto’s hand to his lips.

****************

Later that evening, Ianto stood on the top of the hill overlooking the small village he’d come to call his home. He’d left Jack reading stories of dinosaurs in space to Anouska, telling them both that he needed some fresh air. In one hand he held a worn, soapstone box. Tears trickled gently down his cheeks.

“He’s a good man, Lisa. I think I love him.”

_The wind blew through his hair and spoke to him of towns yet to be visited... friends in need yet to be discovered ... and battles yet to be fought…_

But Ianto rubbed the tears from his eyes and opened the box, letting the wind take Lisa with it, swirling across the open moors, and craggy rocks.

Someone else could take up the challenge.

He wasn’t going anywhere, not for a while.

****************

**Author's Note:**

> All is not as it seems...


End file.
